Book Two: My Final Answer
by l My Dark Angel l
Summary: True love is complicated to define. Only in our lowest points do we see the difference between one path to life against another. All that matters is the path in which we head into our faiths. Second book of the Rekindling of the Past saga. Rated T for language.
1. One

**So in my last book, Patricia and Eddie stayed good friends. Will the same fate be given to Jerome and Mara? Here's what I have to say for that… in book two!**

**Rekindling the Past Saga**

**Book Two**

_**My Final Answer**_

Chapter One

Enter My Return

Amber Millington skipped over to a mannequin with an outfit that made her eyes light up brilliantly. "Oh my gosh," Amber breathed in her common hyper tone. "This outfit would look fabulous on you!" She put the dress over Mara Jaffray's body, and Mara looked down. Amber was sort of modeling Mara in a red button down and a tight dark green skirt. After Mara was silently still for too long, Amber tilted her head questioningly. "Would it not?"

"Sure, Amber, but you really don't have to do this," the darker haired woman reassured her old friend. She recalled when the two hadn't gotten along most of the time in high school, and she was happy to see that this girl was more than welcoming of her return; including this shopping spree. Although one flaw kept invading her mind, and it made this trip to the mall pointless…

Amber flashed her a serious face with a pouty look, something not even her friends could take seriously. "Mara, your little tale about Australia brought me to tears almost. I am more than happy to help you through your tough times. Plus, let's face it, your wardrobe could use a little freshening up," Amber commented, quickly observing Mara's current ensemble: a white tank top with blue flowers scattered about and worn out jeans.

"You haven't seen my wardrobe," Mara protested, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

Mara gaped at her. "I don't need to, darling. I doubt you've change since you left, really. You still sound like the Mara I knew even now!"

"But—"

"There are no buts in shopping," Amber cut her off with a detesting finger in the air, "but the one below your waist and what pants they go well with."

At this, Mara burst into laughter, as did Amber a few moments later. Mara liked the lack of tension between her and Amber, and it was like there was no tension ever. The only times where fights broke out between them, actually, were because of… of him.

Her hands became tight fists at her sides. At any thought of him anymore, she felt her body burst into flames and wanted to kick something. She sighed and tried to recover and said, "Thanks a lot, Amber, but… " She flipped the tag over in order to read it, and a horrified expression crossed her face. "This price is outrageous!" She glanced up at Amber worriedly.

"Please, Mara," Amber objected once more with a roll of the eyes. "Fashion can be risky, especially on a girl's wallet. But it's worth it, isn't it? It's an awesome 'welcome back ensemble'!" She exclaimed, once again showing it around with a grand gesture.

"But... I can't afford it," Mara said, playing with her fingers bashfully. "I don't have a lot of money on me. I need to get a job first before getting anything like this." She felt the fabric of the dress and was amazed by how smooth it felt against her fingertips. It would feel so comfortable against her body. But the sight of the tag once more screaming out a number that made her head spin also made her turn away with a regrettable sigh.

Amber rubbed her chin in thought. Then her face lit up and she folded the outfit in her arms. "Then I'll buy it for you! Employee discount is pretty decent here," she replied with a stride in her black heels toward the cashier. "See? No problem!

Mara followed her as she processed this, though it did not it take too long. "No, Amber. I couldn't let you do that!" she argued.

"I may not be rich, Mara, but I have enough money to spare—don't try to protest, because it'll get you nowhere. It's just something to think about when you need a good friend to talk to," she said, pushing her blond hair behind her shoulders. The skinny woman behind the counter showed her the amount on the small screen. When she said the price, Mara felt a pang in her chest when Amber handed the woman, whose name-tag stated her name was Helena, her credit card. That was a lot of money, and she felt bad for having Amber pay for it. She had a feeling she'd owe her sometime.

"Thanks, Amber. I really appreciate this," Mara acknowledged sincerely as Amber handed her the bag of her new outfit.

"No problem." The two walked out when Mara's stomach growled. Mara looked away, embarrassed, but Amber was, of course, not all that entertained. "You can buy your own lunch, right?"

"Yes, I can. But no place fancy, obviously," Mara joked. "Just someplace in here, maybe."

Amber looked slightly disappointed. "Oh, alright. Some of it's not so bad. The pizza at the end is pretty decent and isn't so greasy I have to wash my hands," she noted, and Mara nodded in agreement.

While heading towards the food court, Amber was once again in her own world, but then turned to her friend with a questioning gaze. This stopped both girls when Mara made eye contact with her. "What?" she asked, feeling self-conscious.

"I have another question, Mara," Amber announced, giving a serious look-well, if one could take Amber's expressions seriously. Even now, it lacked any sort of solemnness, just an attempt that almost seemed to be a joke.

"Did you get here just today?" Amber asked.

"Yes, I told you that," said Mara. She was unsure where this was going.

"Well, since you just got in, do you have a place to stay?"

It took a minute to think about it, but once she processed it, she paled slightly. And this Amber caught, and the answer was in her facial features. Mara had forgotten, of all things, of where to stay. She was so insistent on finding a friend to be around that it hadn't come across her mind. Well, it was later in the day, late enough to see the sun slowly descending.

Amber waited for Mara's response, but words were lost from her, so Amber answered for her. "I'm guessing that's a no?"

Mara slowly nodded. "I literally just got here this morning. I called you and then we just started hanging around since then. I never had a plan when I left—I just… did." She shrugged meekly with a goofy smile.

Amber was not as amused. "So you have no clue where to sleep tonight? Or any other night? I would think the brilliant Mara Jaffray had a plan before she left," Amber said, but since Mara knew her far too well, it was not at all mocking. In fact, she was taking the facts and bringing them to light. Whether they sounded mean or not was only because facts are hard to accept sometimes.

"Yes," Mara said slowly with a grin. "Why?"

Amber suddenly had the biggest smile on her face. Her blond hair danced through the air as she twirled to face Mara directly. Mara's eyes grew as she shouted, "You can live with me! Oh, that's a perfect idea, don't you think?"

"No!" Mara shouted back. Amber took a step back and blinked at her. Thinking she might've taken it the wrong way, Mara added, "It's just that… I can't do that to you. You've already been nice enough to take me place… buy me an outfit... and it's been really nice. But letting me stay in your place while I get used to being back? I can't do that to you."

"Yes you can… because I said so!" Amber smirked. Mara's mouth was agape when she added slyly, "And if you say no, where will you go?"

"I could find an apartment somewhere… I don't have much money, but I'm sure I'll find somewhere that agrees with my wallet," Mara said carefully, all while aware she was gradually losing this war.

"Where?" Amber argued. "Trust me, it's not exactly point and 'there it is' when it comes to apartments! You don't know the conditions, the pricing, the decency—you have to plan every detail, and since you didn't, I'll be more than happy to lend you a hand. You just have to sleep on the couch."

Mara had an urge to keep fighting, but deep down, she knew she had no choice. She barely had _any _money at all, certainly not enough for any apartment; at least not for a long time, which she needed. With this chance to sleep someplace due to somebody's generosity, she couldn't say no any longer. She smiled and nodded in acceptance as they finally headed to their destination.

Their lunch at a pizza place in the mall went silently, just with Mara taking in the pizza, the only food she had that day that wasn't airplane food. They both tossed their remains away and left the food court.

As they made their way out of the mall, they came across a bunch of different shops there: chocolate shops, kids stories, music stories, you name it, this mall had it all! All it needed was a little motel, and Mara could live here. But apparently, Amber was insistent on her staying with her. They weren't even good friends, but she was treating her like one. Rather than argue any longer, she might as well take what the kind blond was giving her.

"Thank you, Amber. I—I appreciate this very much," Mara caved in with a sweet smile, to let her know just how grateful she was.

"No problem," Amber said, rolling her eyes, and they continued through the store in silence.

But one particular store caught her eye; it wasn't a book store, and it didn't have anything at all to do with what they sold inside. Rather, it was a sort of advertising picture for a men's clothing store.

On it was a very handsome man with piercing blue eyes deeply directed toward whoever was right in front of it, like her. Surrounded by a background of sky blue, he was brushing his dirty blond hair away from his eyes. It was a way to attract ladies, she supposed, but since it was a men's store, he wore what Mara guessed was a handsome outfit for men. That was a tan blazer, a light purple scarf, and light jeans, an appropriate wear for newly arrived fall. He wore a look of wistfulness and, well, sexiness, she dared to think.

It took a while for Amber to realize she was leaving her friend behind. When she did, she came back for her and stared at her face for a moment, wondering silently what had absorbed her attention so much. "What's wrong?" she asked, scrunching her face in curiosity.

Mara pointed at the poster, and upon seeing it, Amber dramatically put hand over her mouth and gasped. Mara grinned at her over the top reaction but turned back to the modeling photo of Jerome Clark.

But then she relaxed and said, "I'm not following; what is it?"

"It's Jerome… " she breathed with a sigh. She tried to keep control but also wondered why she had to. This wasn't a picture of Mick or anything. It shouldn't make her stop midway while walking and put her in a daze. She attempted to play it casually but failed because Amber placed her hands on her hips and posed with an attitude.

"I had no idea you were fond of him," said Amber with an accusing stare.

Mara gaped at her. "I'm not," she argued quietly. "I just didn't know he was a model." She faked a weak smile that Amber seemed to buy.

Amber prolonged her observation of the photo and then beamed. "You have to admit, he does look rather smashing," Amber commented, earning her a smack on the arm from Mara. She cradled it while sort of complaining but she let it go, knowing Mara didn't mean it. "For Jerome," she added.

"Oh, please, he's… trying too hard," Mara thought of rather weakly. "I mean, look at his face." She pointed at the dark faced man before them. "He looks like he's trying to act in a movie and is supposed to cry." She smirked at it and tried to pull off her joke with a goofy look, but inside, she was wondering why the hell she was acting like this. What had poor Jerome done to her?

Amber laughed, though with lack of meaning, so maybe her joke wasn't so funny-she didn't think so anyway. "I didn't really think you felt that way. So mean; I like it," said Amber, a spark in her eyes. "Of course, stay your old self, because mean people are the worst." She rolled her eyes at the simplicity of her words, and Mara choked in her giggles.

"I am with you on that," she agreed, and they quickly continued their walk through the mall. Usually this large building was accompanied with silence, minus a few other shoppers roaming around and chatting with their friends; unless someone, namely Amber, was wearing loud high heels. After a few minutes, it just got to her. "How can you walk around in those things? They must be torture on your feet. Plus, they're way too loud in public."

"They are actually very comfortable and everything. And if people have a problem of how 'loud' they are, they should just deal with it," Amber replied with no harshness to her tone—unlike Mara, she was completely mellow.

"Just because they look nice doesn't mean you should wear something that's going to bug others. You should care about what others feel," Mara snapped quietly, as she was aware they were in public quickly enough to catch herself.

"You're suddenly irritable. Is it… about Mick?" Amber asked slowly. She was unsure where to go with this. She, too, had her troubles with the heartbreaking boy, but that was high school.

"No—maybe—I really dunno," she almost whined, raising her hands but dropping them just as quickly. She sighed and did her best to explain what she was thinking, "When I saw that picture of Jerome, I just got… mad, I think. Maybe I'm just taking my anger out on that."

Amber stared blankly at her for a few moments. "I… don't get it. I mean, why Jerome? Is it just because he's the first boy you saw that was from high school or something? That seems rather silly."

"Yeah, you're right. I guess I'm just trying to get over this whole Mick thing—can we go now?" she asked, exasperated and desperate to change the subject again. They stopped at an escalator that would take them to the floor where Amber's car was.

"Absolutely. And we can go get ice cream and listen to some woman empowering music." She raised a positive fist and smiled, and Mara couldn't help but grin as well. As they walked out, she added, "Have you ever heard of the song, _Stronger_?"

"No. What's that?"

"It's this song by an American woman. Her name's Kelly Clarkson. I feel that this would be a perfect song for you and your problems," she confirmed. She turned her car on and the two entered. And sure enough, Amber waved a CD in her face with an unfamiliar woman staring at her with the words "Stronger" embroidered across the cover.

"When did you get this?" Mara asked, surprised Amber even liked American musicians; she declared they weren't worth her time unless they captured her heart. And that meant men with alluring voices…

"A while after Mick broke up with me," Amber said with a sheepish smile that was also full of glee. "I didn't tell anyone because it seemed silly, but it just seemed to… speak to me. And I've kept it to remind me that boys like Mick are not worth it. I got it out again after so long when you told me about leaving Australia."

Mara nodded absentmindedly. And with Amber's eyes again probing her, she knew exactly what the girl would ask next. And she did: "What happened over there, by the way? You never told me—"

"Can we just go?" Mara interrupted with slight desperation in her tone.

Amber stared at her for a bit longer before nodding and turning to the wheel. They departed the mall, and Mara stared at the album. Silence enveloped the car, but Mara absolutely denied any thoughts on filling it with conversation. Especially since Amber brought _him_ up.

… Maybe she'd take a listen to it later.

A/N:

**I want to say real quick how the time goes on around here in the books. **

**Book one was about summer, July 2019 (since it's about six years after graduation for the Sibuna, which I'd say is 2013. **

**Book two is in the fall, early October, 2020 (I don't want it to happen all in the same time). And this is different from my previous story in the fact that updates will be WAY shorter, not only because I'm busy with school, work, etc., but also because I don't have all the chapters written up. Everything's outlined, but not written. So when updates don't go for about a week, that's probably why. And finally, this is an AU from the actual show, as you can tell, Mara isn't with Jerome here. This needs to be noted for the next chapter. Ta-ta for now! 3  
**


	2. Two

Chapter Two

Surprise

She had checked her phone over and over again, but with each time, more disappointment would keep on coming. It really sucked. She kept thinking, _Where is Amber?_

"So where is Amber? She said at four, right?" Patricia Williamson asked, bringing Mara's cup over. She began to clean the table beside her with a rag and with slow movements, slow enough to let her have a conversation. It was the first Mara had seen her best friend in years, and with each person from high school she saw—that she didn't hate—she absolutely lit up. And they were happy to see her, though Patricia had to be careful since their first encounter was at Ruthie's café at work, and, like nearly every day, every hour, Ruth, the manager was there.

"I'm sure of it," answered Mara, once more checking the time on her phone, which said it was twenty two minutes after four in the afternoon. Her patience was wearing down while waiting for the blond girl to arrive like she promised. "Maybe she's hanging out with Lucas?" She made it sound more like a hesitant question, just to feel satisfied.

But like Mara, Patricia knew her guess was horribly flawed. "Lucas is in Wales for the month. Doubt she'd have time to visit him before seeing us and going to work."

"Traffic?"

"Yeah, because it's like hell out there," muttered Patricia, waving toward outside, where maybe a car or two zoomed by every once in a while, but at the moment, one of the words that wouldn't really describe it was 'hellish traffic.' She rolled her eyes playfully at her and continued scrubbing over and over. "Well, maybe she looked at herself in the rearview mirror too long and lost track of where to go."

"Tricia!" Mara scorned. "She's better than that."

"Yeah, I know," said Patricia vaguely. She then turned to Mara directly. "But, hey, she has her moments where I doubt it."

"Can we stop bugging Amber when she's not here?" Mara said, desperately hoping to change the subject. "I just got back and she's been very nice to me since."

"How nice?" Patricia asked rather suspiciously.

"She's letting me stay at her place, and she, uh, brought me an expensive outfit," she said, though it sounded much better in her head. She stared down at her white sneakers but got her courage back quickly to look up. Hopefully, the first part gave her the support Amber needed.

Patricia nodded in approval. "That's great, but you do know there's a huge reason why, right?" Patricia questioned slowly.

"What reason is t—?" Mara began to ask, but the elderly woman who owned the restaurant cleared her throat loud enough to catch hers and Patricia's attention.

"Patricia, clean that table anymore, you'll clean right through it," called out Ruth from the counter. "So get back to get orders."

"I gotta go. I'll see you later about that," said Patricia, slapping the wet rag in the air. She added, "Hey, great to see you again," and left. Mara waved, but suddenly wished Patricia had stayed. Loneliness came back, since she and Amber were not exactly with her. And she didn't want to get Patricia distracted and even fired just because she needed something other than air accompanying her.

She stared into her cup of latte, watching tiny bubbles pop until there were no more. It was day three after arriving back to her home country, and yeah, she was having the time of her life. But really, she had no one to be with at the moment without Patricia and Amber. They were having their own lives, elsewhere, while she had goofed up and decided to start her pathetic life over. Smart move she made… where to now, Mara girl? She took a sip of the hot coffee and continued being greedy about it; thirst was what was on her mind right now and she stuck to it, as that was a problem she could solve easily at the moment, against the other things going on in her mind—

"Mara Jaffray," said an alluring voice. A very alluring, sly, and sexy voice that tried to sound casual, but Mara knew after this that he _meant_ to tip her over and surprise her. But at that moment…

_Oh…no. You've got to be joking me. _

Yes, a joke, a trick, a prank, even a hallucinating. Maybe this was a reality television show, and they had him here just to mess with her mind and make her go mad. Well, they were pretty damn smart because they had the right girl—hell, they had the right guy, as well. Exactly the right guy—almost as right as Mick, but not close enough; that was a different story.

But surely any of these would make more sense than it actually happening. Because the second she heard that voice, she nearly spit out what she had of her drink. It was not one of her finest moments.

It slipped from her mouth and all across the table. Mara noticed Patricia and Ruth stare wide eyed at her. Then Patricia caught the eye of the fine-looking man above her, and everything clicked in her head, Mara could notice. Patricia ran over with a new cleaning towel and scrubbed off the stain while Mara constantly apologized, too absorbed in her guilt of making Patricia clean to pay attention to whom caused her to make the mess in the first place.

Jerome Clark jumped back in shock and gave her a bewildered look, as this was absolutely not the reaction he anticipated when he came in. Patricia leaned in closer to get a good swipe of the table, but really, to whisper over to Mara as well.

"You have got to be fuckin' joking. Were you expecting him as well?" Patricia sneered, absolutely disgusted by his arrival for some reason that Mara couldn't detail.

"Of course not."

"Well, then, how did he get here? He never comes in here; I should know since I work some damn much," snarled Patricia, marking harder strokes. Mara put a finger to her mouth, and Patricia relaxed… a little. Mara wanted as much time to talk to the redhead as possible, since she didn't know where Amber was.

She shrugged. "I only expected Amber," Mara informed her, almost raising her voice but stopping herself.

Patricia thought for a moment and then frowned. She snapped a finger. "Oh my gosh… she set this up!" she proclaimed.

"What?"

Patricia ignored her. "Fancypants, did Amber happen to get a moment to chat with you and get you to come here?" she asked him boldly. Everyone—that is, the three of them, Ruth, and two other customers—suddenly had their attention towards the two.

"Fancypants," repeated Jerome with a wide smirk and a clearing of the throat. "It seems your old teases are no longer with you, _Pixie_."

Patricia gritted her teeth at that ridiculous old nickname. "We're not kids anymore, Clarke. Quit with the stupid nicknames."

"Well, mine's better than yours." Even with his stupid comeback, he remained so mellow and cool, it didn't matter. What mattered now was the battle to keep their patience, and he was winning. "It _has _been a while, hasn't it?"

"You mean since I smacked you 'round all the time for being a d-"

"Let's not get to mean words, now," Jerome feigned chiding with a raise of his hands in defense. Then he put his hands in his dark khaki pants. "And yes, I did happen to get Amber to call me, and she invited me here. I was actually quite curious until we saw our little friend here." He then waved over to Mara, and her cheeks blazed furiously. She did not want to be a part of their little fight—wait, was this even a fight? Sure didn't sound like it.

"Well, you sure didn't have a cause a scene," said Patricia, her one hand on her hip, another sign of her pissed off attitude.

"Hey, she did that to herself! I could have come in here and not caused her to spew coffee all over. But hey, accidents happen. Everything's fine now, Pixie. We're all old friends here." He winked.

That seemed to set Patricia off entirely; it showed as fury crossed on every feature across her face. And unlike Mara, it didn't take long to break her open. "Don't you wink at me, you prat! Just because you're a model does not mean you can get every girl to swoon just by blowing them a kiss or whatever," she fumed. "I'll be watching, so if you try anything on Mara—I swear I will go full on hell on both you and Amber for setting this up, because Mara doesn't need your shit rig—"

"Trisha," shouted Ruth from the back, obviously not able to handle letting this go on forever. Mara was surprised she let it go this far. Ruth pointed with an angry face and gritted teeth. "Back to work! Now!" Mara almost wished she had let them go at it, even for a moment. Then she thought of how it could get physical and thought, _Perhaps it's best._

"Patricia, it's alright, I can handle myself," Mara whispered while Patricia left the two. Patricia, who was holding a large mug of coffee, refilled Mara's cup. She thanked her summarily, though the thanks did not do justice to her anger at Jerome.

Patricia grumbled something unintelligible, though Mara had no doubt cuss words were involved. Mara looked down at her newly polished table and picked her coffee up. She took a long sip, hoping maybe he'd leave if she kept at it. But she knew Jerome; he'd stay if it meant bugging her so much. She sighed when she finished, but then the relief had died when she realized he was still standing there.

"May I sit? Or are you going to spray some at me?" he asked, gesturing to himself.

"No," she answered rather tersely. "I mean… yes, you can sit down, and no, I won't spill anymore," she added in a bit of a stutter. But she put as much confidence in her words as possible; she wouldn't let Jerome Clark of all people get to her.

He sat down, and for a moment he just stared at her. Mara made a raspberry sound and then finally went out with it. "Why did Amber bring you here? Did she say?"

"Nope," he replied. "She just said to go over, because there was a surprise there for me and that she'd be there. What a liar… well for the most part." His eyes flashed at her and he continued, "Have you seen her?"

"Only this morning, and that's because she's letting me stay in her place," said Mara.

"Oh, well, that's nice," Jerome said unenthusiastically. "But why the hell me?"

"I don't know. … We were friends, and since I was back, she wanted us to see each other. Like a little reunion," she added brightly; a little too brightly. She wanted to make this conversation come to life, but on the inside, she knew she just embarrassed herself, and she blushed again. She even hid her face when Jerome raised his eyebrows. The littlest of his actions were setting her off; it was unsettling.

"I suppose." He shrugged, but then he met her eyes for a moment, not really staring. More like… observing. She felt nervous again and looked away. "Why did you come back?"

"Pardon?"

"Why did you come back?" he repeated, emphasizing every word, and loudly. If Mara didn't know better, Patricia could be watching. Mara hissed at him to be quiet. "Well?" he breathed.

"It's complicated, alright?" she said sharply. Her tone surprised him but she had no regrets. "I haven't even… figured it out or anything. I just left to… to clear my mind and settle things."

"Settle things… with Mick, I'm guessing?" He leaned in toward her. "Things not so grand in Mick Land, Australia?"

"Shut up, Jerome," she murmured, gripping her coffee cup, but not hard enough to make any dents. Still, she felt her mind fill with anger at Jerome's taunting. This one topic would definitely set her off; if he said anymore…

"I always knew that that bloke was not someone to trust. Too bad it took you this long to realize that," he said very loudly. And purposely, at that. He leaned back oh so casually again.

Of course he would, of course he would! Jerome was so like that; feeding off your irritations and beating at them until you couldn't take them anymore. But she decided not to let him get away with that.

She gaped at him, and at that thought, she snapped. His attitude was ghastly; what a prick! She stood up and stood before him. His eyes widened, but other than that, he did not do anything when Mara poured the rest of her coffee all over him. A woman in the café gasped dramatically, but Patricia was hysterically in her workplace with laughter, clapping her hands.

Mara crossed her arms and said, "I told you to shut up, Jerome." She slammed her cup on the table, jogged across the café and paid her money. "Keep the change," she told Ruth when she handed her the five. Behind the old woman, Patricia gave her a positive thumbs up. She just frowned darkly and turned to leave. She just wanted to get out of here quickly.

"Did you know, Mara?"

Mara shut her eyes. She was so close to the door. She could just throw it open and stomp out. But curiosity would eat her alive the rest of the day. She exhaled deeply and, turning around, asked, "Know what, Jerome?"

Once she turned around, she realized how close he had gotten during her tentativeness. He had quickly brushed the coffee from his hair and face for what he had to say.

He didn't answer immediately, though. He shook his head and chuckled quietly and ironically. "Know what? Know how I felt about you in high school, of course," he went on slowly. He was edging closer, and before she would know it, they would be too close. He slammed a hand on the window of the café, and his fingers were so close to her face.

"What are you talking about, Jerome?" She wanted to leave, leave and never see him again. But her feet were frozen where they were and wouldn't release her. She stared into his icy eyes of gorgeous blue and was too lost for a moment to be angry when he said it.

"I was absolutely captivated by you, Mara. Absolutely into you," he breathed every word just inches from her face, and he held her hand at the last word.

Mara's heart stopped, or at least, she thought it would. She doubted—then she'd need medical help obviously—but it might as well have. Her whole world started spinning, spiraling out of control. This was too much for her to absorb in mere minutes. She let out a desperate breath. Mara wished Patricia would help her out on this, but she knew she had to battle this herself. She couldn't let Jerome's enticement get the better of her.

She released herself and nearly fell into the door. The chime cried out, and he almost reached out for her, but she slapped his arms away. She closed the door but heard his last words very audibly:

"You know, for a smart person, you can be quite daft, Mara."

A/N:

**I have got to stop using sexy to describe Jerome—I'm too obsessed with him! And I made him a model, I should note, due to the fact his portrayer, Eugene Simon, is actually a model, and it seemed to fit Jerome's personality well enough.**

**I had fun writing this chapter; it came to me very quick, actually. I don't expect much more Patricia and Jerome fights, I'll at least have her and Amber around a lot more, as opposed to OCs, with a few very small exceptions.**


	3. Three

**I apologize for being so late; school's really getting in the way, and I've been quite stressed about it. I'm also working on other projects, so I deeply am sorry. And the worst thing is that this is so short. I swear, I'll try to update the next chapter ASAP!**

Chapter Three

Who Knew

He decided not to be so mad at Mara right in front of her face, but when not only she left, but he too, the café, he cursed over and over. Though he cleaned his hair and unconcealed body of the stickiness of Mara's coffee, it was still in his clothes—stains, stickiness, and all.

It was the newest outfit in his line. And he was only out in it because Amber caught him on his break of all times. He shouldn't have been out but curiosity got the best of him. He had been tricked by Amber, of all people. I'll never talk about that to anyone. What an embarrassment.

Taylor would be pissed—though not as much as Daniel. If anyone was as strict as Daniel, he couldn't imagine the two together. He would erupt, as would Taylor, if she was in one of her moods. He crossed his fingers and hoped for the best as he went across five blocks on foot back to Taylor's agency.

Jerome went in and was immediately noticed—by Taylor. She ran over as fast as her high heels could allow her and went over every part of him. She gasped at his stains, and her face paled. "Jerome, dear, what the hell happened?" she said, on the brink of tears as she felt with her fingers the front of his white graphic T-shirt. Why of all days did Taylor decide to have him in a white shirt today?

Despite this, he observed her mood and took it with slight gratitude. Good mood-well, sort of. Thank God. "There was a little… accident on my break," Jerome informed the emotional woman vaguely.

"Obviously!" she shrieked. "We have this photo shoot today only-oh, I shouldn't have let you go. You told me it was only going to be a short walk." She was hysterical.

"Well, I thought I was, but then… " Jerome brushed the back of his head, wondering if Taylor and Daniel would be able to let this one time slide. After all, he actually never caused trouble for this job. He was finally getting it right. _Only took two tries at other stupid places._

"This better be good, Jerome, or else Daniel will give both of us hell," Taylor growled, pointing at him in a somewhat threatening way—somewhat being the fact he could not take her seriously in her meltdowns.

"Relax, it will be," he soothed her, rubbing her shoulder. Taylor was just four years older than him, so maybe his enticing moves would relax her. She rubbed her face, and he waited. Finally, Taylor straightened her black skirt and waited with pouty lips. "A friend invited me for coffee, and, well… " He hesitated, holding back and trying to come up with a right way to bring this up while not only trying to hide the fact airhead Amber tricked him, but also unsure if he really wanted to bring up her name. "… you're not letting me go with this, are you?"

"You think?" Taylor crossed her arms and turned to the side; a sign that she was meaning business.

"Mara was there—at the coffee shop." Jerome had at one point informed Taylor of Mara. Not her whole profile, but enough to let her know how he felt about her. Which was exactly why he wanted to dodge that, but he had no choice, did he?

Taylor's face and anger fell rather quickly at that. If there's one thing that irritated Jerome about her, it was that she was so bipolar, her emotions were similar to the movements of rollercoasters. He can never really tell where her thoughts were sending her. So far, he did not mind them so long as he wouldn't get punched in the face for it. Still, it put him on the edge. "Mara? The Jaffray woman you mentioned?" she trilled with a new spark in her eyes-a spark of interest. "She's back now."

"Yes."

"Your little tale told me she was with the blond boy who was obsessed with sports… in Australia!" Taylor pointed out in a high pitched tone.

"She was… but she left, obviously," he mocked her tone. She glared at him, and he decided to stop once he realized this whack job was his agent. "I tried to ask her, but what I think is that something happened between her and Mick."

"You didn't ask her about that, did you?" By her exasperated tone, Jerome knew that that kind of talk was not a great idea—especially to girls. If I ever go to the library, I'll be sure to look for a book on how not to talk to girls, he thought dryly.

"Yes, and it made her pretty ticked, so I'm guessing that is what's it."

"Well, of course she went mad! I would have thought boys would know that that kind of thing was something to avoid talking about, Jerome. Old loves are the biggest heartache, and also one that can make girls either really mad or really in despair."

"I might as well be looking at a girls' magazine, Taylor. I want to stop talking about this," Jerome said with a slight growl protruding from his lips.

But his agent was not one to let things go; if anything, she stretched it out until its limit was reached. She smirked. "What happened then, though? Did, uh, were there sparks?" Taylor asked like a gossipy girl, or an interviewer for an extremely girly magazine. He wished he had a male agent for his modeling career. Really did.

Then he gestured down over his stained shirt, and the answer sunk into her instantly. She placed a hand over her mouth, and Jerome had no doubt she was trying to conceal laughter. He glared at her angrily. She knew she was caught and said, "Oh, sweetie, be angry at me all you want—it's pretty funny. I mean, you did deserve it. Any girl would do that when put in that poor gal's situation."

"Thank you for the last minute advice," said Jerome with a grimace. Then he glanced back down at his shirt. "I doubt Dan will let this slide, though."

Taylor looked beyond her shoulder, as if expected their boss to arrive at any moment. "There's another shirt in my office, but I'd have to be quick. But don't," she added, pointing angrily at him with her lips curved downward, "let this happen again, Jerome. This is the first time something like this has happened and I can only do so much for you."

Jerome let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Taylor. I owe you big."

"I would swear you already do, but… " Taylor said, rolling her eyes and already leaving the room.

Jerome sat in a chair and stared around, waiting for Taylor. But as he allowed his mind to wander, one person's image couldn't escape him. It was there, even though she was really mad in his mind. That's how she was pretty much the minute she talked with him—that or impatient or even baffled. It was amazing how much he made her freak out.

The genius, also the absolute airhead when it came to, well, Jerome Clark. It didn't take much, either. The second she did a spit take upon hearing his voice, he knew something was off about her. But what exactly made her so? That was what confused him.

But then he smiled out of nowhere while recalling the memory. The spot he put her in almost made him feel bad, but when she left, he knew he gained something out of it. Her eyes growing once he said those words.

_I was absolutely captivated by you, Mara. Absolutely into you._

That trapped her, that made her pause and run away. It was that reaction that suddenly made that trip, that little accident worth it all. His old high school crush… did she even know he liked her? Was it only now that it came to her, resulting in her running from him and his confession? It was almost laughable.

Taylor returned and took him away from his thoughts. Draped over her arm was a shirt very similar to the one he was wearing-the only difference was that it was crystal clean. She tossed it effortlessly to him and sat next to him, crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest.

"Thank you," Jerome said, taking off the stained shirt. He was about to put the new one over his head when he noticed Taylor's stare at him. "What?"

"Jerome, despite your job, I prefer that my workers are not half naked in the building unless advised to." Taylor raised a brow at him in amusement. Her eyes shifted very quickly towards his revealed stomach. She took away the dirty shirt and left again.

She returned by the time he put on the shirt, and he tried to sit down again. But she put a hand out. "Daniel's coming soon—he just texted me. Let's just hope he doesn't look into the hamper we put failed designs in," she said.

"Let's hope," Jerome drawled, lacking interest in her words. Slowly, he was drifting from the conversation. He couldn't stop thinking about that interaction with Mara… how bad and how great it went, all at the same time.

But Taylor abruptly brought him back. "What's exactly on your mind, Jerome? You're not usually this distracted, and I've seen you at your worst, let me tell you," Taylor said with a wink.

"Nothing you'd be interested in," Jerome replied casually, leaning against the chair to prove a point—what point? He had no clue. What was there to hide? Nothing, that's what! At least, he was sure of it…

Taylor did not answer so quickly, just observed his face, like she was digging in his mind. Then: "You still have feelings for her, do you?" she probed.

Jerome blew a raspberry, which made her brows crease in agitation. "No, of course not. I've forgotten about her after six years, Taylor. I've moved on. If she has a problem with me, that's fine," said Jerome.

"If not, I have a question for you." She went over to the vending machine of drinking machines—though other than one choice of Coca-Cola, it was all water or lemonade. She glanced at him. "Want anything?"

"Just a water, I suppose. Is that your question so we can be done with this?" Jerome asked.

"That wasn't my question, though, you git," she said mockingly, rolling her eyes as she underhandedly tossed the water bottle in his direction in the air in a perfect arc. He caught it easily and swiftly with one hand.

"Then what the hell is it?" Jerome said, more calmly as he took a sip of water. Though inside, his patience was very lacking. Her lack of getting to the point was driving him up the wall. If she weren't his agent, and he wasn't at work, he'd probably stomp out at that very moment. But he stood still, also anticipating what Taylor has gathered from his daydreaming.

"Why are we still talking about her, if you don't care about her?"

Jerome glared at her, but the fact he was quiet seemed to satisfy Taylor. Beside, Daniel Richards arrived from his office, and their conversation was dropped entirely to speak to continue Jerome's photo shoot. Even if the thought of Mara herself did not disappear from his mind.


	4. Four

A/N**: Due to recent reviews and the fact the last chapter was pretty damn short, I'm going to give you another chapter already! Plus, this week, I'm going to be EXTREMELY busy, especially on the weekend. **

**Also, quick thanks to those who have commented on my story: OnTheBrinkOfInsanity and justkeepwriting, who is that one fan everyone has that makes you feel good. This is to both of ya'll since I forgot to do this last chapter. :)**

Chapter Four

Nothing to Say

Mara enjoyed Amber's house. Though she lived on her own, she maintained a nice living space that was not a crappy apartment with only a few rooms crowded into a small surface area. Mara gave her credit for that (even though she was certain she got help from her rich parents… but still, Mara knew she had a job and took it seriously).

Mara sat on her new bed—which was the large white couch that didn't look at all messy even though it appeared years old. She was flipping through channels, only she had no clue what to watch-or what was on that she liked.

Amber was still at work, but thank goodness she gave Mara a spare key. She wanted to be here as soon as Amber arrived home. The scene at the café was only made worse when Patricia and Jerome helped her gather that the blond woman was the one who brought Jerome over. It was set up! Mara was appalled. Why would she do that?

She walked around the house, trying to plan just how to put this on her, to ask her without…sounding ma? Well, she had a reason to be mad, but she had a feeling that was exactly why Amber sent Jerome there… right? She was beginning to doubt her confrontation. Yeah, let it go and pretend nothing happened, hoping Amber will maybe drop it, and move on with life.

She stopped when she heard her phone ring. The only person she knew who knew that number was Amber, so maybe a little confrontation about her little plot would come quicker than she anticipated. At least she had an idea to get the topic in there—just shoot it out the second Amber answered. She took it out from her bag and-

Her heart sank as she realized it was not Amber—not at all. Mara almost wanted to drop the phone onto the floor and leave, maybe add some horrific screaming to let all of London know, though that was more of the ever dramatic Amber's thing, letting it ring as much as it could before he would just give up.

But she knew better, she was not going to let him win. She accepted the call and put it in her ear. She waited for a response, didn't want to start it.

"… Mara, are you there?" Mick Campbell asked after a very few awkward moments. "… 'Ello?"

"Yes… I'm here," Mara whimpered. She crossed her one arm behind her head and asked, "Why are you calling?"

"Why else would I call you except to convince you to come back?" Mick answered. Though he didn't sound angry… he had no reason to—at least not as much as she had a reason to want to kick him in a boy's special place. "Where are you?"

"In London living with Amber—and that's how I want it to be for now. I'm not coming back!" she informed him with much more confidence than she believed she could perform.

Mick, however, was lacking his. He said with barely any emotion, "I miss you, and I don't get why you left."

"You really don't know?" Mara said, aghast as memories flooded her brain. She shook them away and added, "Mick, you were there. You know exactly why I left."

"I didn't mean to," Mick explained in a surprisingly calm way, though his voice rose a slight octave. "I was just… nervous and scared. I wasn't thinking clear. But what I meant was why you left so suddenly—you didn't even say good-bye."

"Obviously," was all Mara could respond, her knees feeling weak.

"I tried to talk to you when you ran away, but you wouldn't let me. I don't find that as fair, Mara. I tried to explain what was going on in my head… " Mick's voice faded nervously.

Mara struggled with staying strong. Thinking back to what happened really did throw her off her guard. It made her freeze for a bit. But she finally was able to say, "Mick, if you knew what you were thinking, you wouldn't have asked me to marry you. You wouldn't have been so stutter-ish and freaky about it if you really loved me. And then I wouldn't have left."

"But I didn't want to you to leave like that. I found out at the last minute only because I went over to your house and saw you weren't there. I was devastated and tried to get to the airport before you left… but I was too late. You were gone. And I hated myself for it."

"I'm not leaving yet, Mick," she said with as much pride in her voice as she could muster. She wanted to believe she would not cave in to him and return to him after everything that went on back in Australia. "No matter what you were thinking, I just need to… to think about what happened. It really hurt, and I have to clear my head for a sure decision."

"A decision to what?" Mick asked, though based on the horror that crept in, he knew exactly what she meant.

Before she could respond, the sound of a pair of shoes in the room reached her ears. Mara gaped and twirled around to see a bigger horror than Mick thought was her not returning to him. She almost dropped the phone and their conversation.

Amber tilted her head, and Mara was stuttering before she could keep on going with the conversation. Could she speak about this with Amber in the room? Her anxiety, however, disappeared when a sudden charge of courage came in. She exhaled through her nose and said, "I need to go. We can talk about this later."

"You wouldn't have said you weren't ready in front of all those people if you loved me enough," said Mara spitefully. She saw Amber jump, through the corner of her eyes, but she tried to ignore her entirely. She was not the center of attention—not just yet.

"Mara!" Mick said in surprise at her harsh attitude. But he deserved it—every bit of it. So before he could say anything—should he have anything to say—she turned off her phone and casually placed it back in her pocket, this time turning it all entirely.

She sighed and met the eyes of Amber just inches in front of her face; unknowingly to Mara, the woman had walked the rest of the way of the distance between them during the conversation for some reason. But the questions that danced in her eyes were all too obvious.

Mara almost tried to think up an excuse, some sort of lie explaining who it was that was not Mick. But the sight of Amber, silently interrogating her, made all of that die away. Granted, Amber did not too grand at school, but she was no dummy, and she could tell when Mara lied or not—Mara was sure everyone could, considering her ability to lie was as horrible as it was in high school

"Who was that? Was… was that Mick?" Amber asked, with widened eyes.

"… How are you and Luke doing? You've been very quiet about him." Inside, she wanted to punch herself for trying something as stupid as that. Bringing Amber's life into this wasn't going to make things slide.

Amber gave her a raised brow, and finally, Mara caved. "Yes, it was him," she sighed in defeat. "But I don't want to talk about it."

"Yes, you do," Amber said pointedly, grabbing Mara before she could walk away from this. She planted the black haired girl on the couch and stood above her with crossed arms. It was like she was a teacher and Mara was the student who got in trouble for having their cell phone out. "This is a dramatic point in your life, and you can't hide it from your friends—especially friends who let you live with them."

That stung at Mara deeply. Behind the blank gazes, Amber was pretty sneaky, but she didn't expect her friend to use the fact she was letting Mara stay with her for free against her like this. But like Mick, she could not let Amber take the gold here. "I don't!" she snapped.

The serious look about Amber's face was all too unreal. "I'm not playing this game, Mara! I want to know the truth!"

"There's nothing to talk about," Mara muttered, hopelessly wondering why she was lying like this and how long it would last before she would burst into tears.

"I may not have heard everything, but what I heard was enough." Amber sat down beside her and gave her a look. When Mara did not respond immediately, she said, "I've got all night, Mara. We're roommates; I can sit here for the rest of the day if I have to."

"What time do you have to get to work tomorrow?" Mara asked.

"I'm off tomorrow, so ha!" Amber taunted. Mara huffed and fell against the pillows of the couch. Amber watched her and clicked her tongue trice. "Well, now I know it was Mick you were talking to, and your tone implied something was up-something not too grand."

"It wasn't," Mara agreed, but she mentally warned herself not to bring up any more of it.

Still, Amber pressured her into going on, waving her hands in a gesture to continue into the tale of what brought Mara here. Oh, why was she so persistent? She respect Amber for it, but at the moment, it was absolutely driving her bonkers. All she could do was bury her face into her crossed arms that sat against her knees and hide there—hopefully by then, Amber could get the idea she didn't want to talk about it.

Amber seemed to have gotten it. When her voice came in, declaring, "We need to get you out of this funk, Mara," Mara peeked through her arms curiously at her, wondering where she was going with this. The shine in Amber's eyes was never a good sign.

Sure enough, she caught Mara by surprise by taking her phone from her pocket. Mara tried to protest, but Amber put out a hand to stop her. "First off… take away any kind of way you can talk to him. No old phones, and we're so blocking him on Facebook—maybe that'll get the facts straight in his mind."

"I need a phone, though!" Mara protested, trying to break through Amber's hold to get her phone back. But Amber was just a bit taller than her, enough to make sure, when she held her phone up as high as she could, it was nearly impossible. She ignored the fact that she was whining and let it go—despite herself, cell phones were very necessary in this life.

"Oh, I have an extra lying around somewhere," Amber told her.

"I can't keep letting you give me stuff, Amber!" Mara protested somewhat bitterly. "Now give it back!"

Amber dismissed it by saying, "You need to restart life without that jerk. And I want to help you. Still, you need to get a job on your own and be able to get your own way through things. I'm only helping you start out. And start a new life here."

Mara groaned, knowing full well how right she was. That was the reason why she came here. That, and… well, at the moment, she was trying not to think about him, yet more about what to think of him.

Yet altogether, she shoved it back somewhere else in her brain the second it would overwhelm her brain. But yeah, she wanted a quiet place to think, someplace to start if it turns out nothing is going right.

And yet, she was still mad at Amber for many reasons. And many were not even mentioned yet. It was clear in the blonde's sharp eyes that glinted almost a sort of evil, however, with them constantly staring at her face.

She almost thought she was in the clear, but Amber interrupted her fantasy by saying, "I need you to tell me what happened between you and Mick. And I'm being serious."

There, at that moment, like when Jerome brought it up, she wanted to curse and smack something and God knows what else. It filled her up with such rage that she actually folded her hands into tight fists. She had no idea why, it just did. Like they needed to know the details of her angst. Heck, they'd probably make fun of her for running away so foolishly. She didn't need that. She wanted to get away from all of that, and here she was, once again forced into a bitter reality. Amber noticed this and was taken aback.

Of course, however, Mara could never be too mad—not for long, anyway. Instead, tears immediately made her vision blurry, although just barely. "Please, Amber, I don't want to talk about it. It hurts too much," she said with desperation in her tone, making her sound so weak, so pathetic.

Amber did not see any reason to stop, though. It was not like she was one to savor anger or other negative emotions, but she was just… something else. Mara could not pinpoint it. "Mara, you can't hide from this. I don't know why you left, but I hope it's not for that. Whatever happened, you have to face it somehow," Amber urged, though not with a reassuring tone.

"I can't!" Mara sobbed. "No one would understand. Not even Mick does. I came here to just think about it, but now I'd rather stay here and never go back!"

"Why, though?" Amber questioned again.

"I'm not saying anything!" Mara screamed, and that was that. She got up from the couch and pulled away from Amber's grasp at her shoulder. She grabbed her purse hastily—some stuff fell out but whatever they were, she did not care. And she stormed from Amber's house without a single hesitation.

All the way from leaving her house and the block, she was crying. She walked around the city of London in what could have been a stumble, but she was not falling or anything. Only falling into despair that she swore she would not go into-but she did. Stupid, stupid girl.

How did this end up with her crying and running away? She wanted to figure out why Amber brought Jerome over… oh well. Those questions would be answered when she returned from…wherever she would end up… whenever she decided to return. But whatever. All that mattered was that she be alone with her thoughts and her tears as all that happened back in Australia registered to her, each in a full binding fist that gave great pain.

A/N: **It seems a lot of phone conversations are interrupted in my stories. HAHA—oh, shut it. XD So you may not see any updates for another week or so; this is just a notice for the future. See you whenever I get the chance. **


	5. Five

A/N: **And thus, I have returned. And after going to Boston for the weekend… still got nothing done except for other projects. Luckily, I'm almost done with those, and can finish up this quickly, which shouldn't be much longer, hopefully. But I got you guys a gift while away… ANOTHER CHAPTER! Yay, who doesn't love those? And it's much longer, actually. So… enjoy! :)**

**By the way, before I give this, I am wondering if anyone can help me get an image for this, simply because I also had one for the first book. It doesn't have to have characters, like "the Insanity of Love" did; just anything. I'd much appreciate it.**

Chapter Five

A Shoulder to Lean On

Work finally ended, so he had the rest of the day to himself. Taylor let him off for the coffee all over the outfit, though Daniel Grey had a fit about not so much about the stain, but trying to keep it from him. Of course he would find out—the building and clothing line were his. He knew it head to toe; for all Jerome knew, he had cameras stashed all across the building for his paranoid sake. Still, they were both given only warnings. Jerome learned long ago to at least keep his thoughts to himself; in the real world, trouble was not good one bit.

So he was able to walk around the streets of the warm day with not many worries about losing his job. While he was only in his mid-twenties, this job was one he was sure he would stick with as long as he could. A few slips of the tongue would have to stop when he was around.

He came into the park, trying to dodge the kids who were running around as he went through the playground that ran across a small part of the park. Returning home was this same cycle every day. He didn't mind it so long as little kids didn't bump into him. Although, his mood was slightly more relaxed after being given only a warning for the incident at the café, so perhaps he'd even let that slide.

But just as he was exiting the park, he saw a figure sitting on a bench—well, it was more like sulking. The dark haired beauty, shoulders sagging and hiding her face, was obviously in tears, what with her shaking body and the strange noise he could hear feet away.

What was Mara doing here? Sobbing to herself like this? He recalled that only two or three hours ago did those two talk—with disastrous results, obviously. So what had happened in between that? Why did he care? Whatever. Something in him knew something was going on, but he did not know exactly what. Curiosity drove him to walk toward her.

But when Mara slowly drew her head up from her arms when hearing footsteps come her way and blinked at him very slowly with those brown eyes, he wondered if that was the only reason he came over here. He then sat down, and Mara shifted over to give him enough space to sit comfortably, a sign she did not necessarily want to be quite so isolated. However, silence wavered for quite a bit. He decided to let her talk first, waiting to see what was lingering in her sad mind.

Finally it came out, as she came out from hiding and rubbing her tear stained face with her dark jacket sleeve. "'Ello, Jerome," she said weakly, and Jerome wanted to burst into laughter. It was as if he had just come over when he had waited one, maybe two minutes for her to relax. "What are you doing here?"

"It was a surprise to see you here, Mara," he said coyly, dodging her question entirely and putting his arm atop the bench oh so casually. "It's a shame to see a poor woman like you so down like you are. And being a gentleman, I decided to help out the innocent; the damsel in distress, if you will." He put a hand on her shoulder, which she shook off harshly.

Mara glanced up at him, and though her face was already slightly red from crying, her face seemed to get a tone redder but in rage. "What happens in my life is none of your business," she snapped under her breath. "If you cared enough, you'd leave me alone."

"Oh, then I don't care about you a single bit," he said with a knowing grin. Mara groaned in irritation. "So what's got you down in the first place? Does it… have to do with what I asked at the café."

"Jerome," she protested in a whisper.

"Hey, this time, you don't have coffee to spray all over me, so choose your words wisely," he put in. When she didn't respond, he went on. "What's it going to do to let people know what happened? How embarrassing. Especially someone who used to be a good friend of yours."

"It's even harder to explain it to a guy," Mara explained, but Jerome kept his attention. She was gradually caving in to saying something; he could just see it. She wiped her face with her sleeve.

"Just… well, pretend I'm one of your gal pals." Then he pantomimed as to how he saw girls interact, all while being melodramatic enough to drive Mara bonkers. He placed his hands on his chin and gave the brightest smile. "Mara, you should, like, absolutely tell me what happened between you and Mick. Oh, I'm sure it's awful! But you can tell me anything, because we're total BFFs! I pinkie promise I won't tell anyone!"

Mara gave him a blank stare in response. She raised a brow and struggled between laughing and informing the guy just how freaking weird he was. Jerome titled his head and said, "Am I more of an actor or a model, Mara? Be honest?"

"Model, definitely," she replied, and she could no longer hold in her laughter.

"So you think I'm handsome."

"Jerome!" She shoved his shoulder and chuckled. She rubbed her knees after a moment of eerie silence and said, "Never mind that. Let's… alright."

"Alright… what?"

"I'll tell you what happened in Australia," she answered with a glance at her shoes. She felt more comfortable staring at them over Jerome's eyes. She couldn't look over her , the sun glaring down upon them.

"You're going to tell me?" Jerome summarized.

"Yes… but don't tell anyone about it. It's no one's business except mine and whoever I tell," Mara warned with a finger inches from jabbing his nose.

Jerome smirked at her petty threat, even chuckling, which sort of made her slink back into a less intimidation position. "It's not like anyone I know would care. My lips are sealed." He even pulled two of his fingers across his lips and tossed his hand behind him, a mimic that meant exactly what he said. He then leaned into her and added, "Now spill."

Mara rolled her eyes but nonetheless sighed as she began. "Well, we had been dating for a long time after we left for college. The college down there was great, and we got to see each other all the time. We had a few problems, but nothing ever made us actually break up,"—she swore she saw Jerome roll his eyes, but she continued—"but then after college, he asked me to marry him. It was just a little over half a year ago, and I was so happy, of course I said yes! And things went so well—all the planning, the outfits, everything… was perfect." She sighed dreamily, in deep thought of those joyous moments where everything was going so well.

Jerome was not at all enthused. He seemed to want the stuff he asked for—as in, the reason she came here, not how much she loved her wedding plans. He raised his brows at her and waved a hand for her to go on. After a few moments of blushing, she said in a stutter, "Oh, uh, sorry, I… anyway, at the very wedding, I felt so amazing. The pastor was doing the whole thing with marriage and I wanted to cry. And then… and then… "

Her voice faded, and the mere memory brought tears to her eyes. Oh, why was this making her so depressed, so emotional? Why wasn't she strong like Trisha, who would probably brush it off like dust on her shoulder?

"Then what?" Jerome asked, bringing her back from the darker part of her mind. She turned to him, and though he was stoic faced, she had a feeling, somewhere deep in his heart, that he cared. Or at least, she hoped he did. He put a hand on her shoulder, and this time, she did not protest. Maybe he did have a heart…

"The priest asked Mick 'I do' and… and he… he ran off!" Mara burst out, this time no longer able to cry. Perhaps she had lost all the moisture from her eyes. She had no idea, but at least she wouldn't look foolish anymore talking about it.

Jerome's eyes widened. "He left… right in middle… of a wedding? Your wedding?" he repeated in disbelief, but… was there a grin on his face? A tiny one, even? She noticed something like that for a second before it disappeared. He cleared his throat and said, "I'm guessing that didn't look too spectacular."

She glared at him but agreed, "Yes. His family was confused, and mine were devastated."

Understatement of the decade. Her mother was in tears. Her father was more furious if anything, almost wanting to sort out the boy. But Mara had convinced him to stay still. "I went out to talk to him. He went all the way to some garden, since we were at some fancy hotel his father offered to rent for us. He said… well, I don't really remember much of it—I try to forget it. But he said he was nervous, that he wasn't sure if he was ready to marry me. But I was just… just so mad, I wanted to yell at him. I didn't though. I told him we needed to back off for a bit—so I came here to sort things out.

It wasn't so much to be away from him, but… to decide if he's worth the rest of my life. Especially after that episode, I wasn't sure how to deal with it. I moved in with Amber, and, well, here we are." She gestured around the park, and shyly and weakly grinned at Jerome.

He was still grinning, still holding his hand against her arm in a sort of comforting way. "Lovely story, Mara. Shame it had to end like that," he said with no sympathy. He then gave her a suspicious look. "But you can't still have feelings for him, can you? Something like that ought to snap a girl out of her lovey-dovey trance."

"It just made me… confused? I have no idea, actually," Mara said with a strange, low laugh. But Jerome did not follow her, apparently not amused. With a straight face, she added, "I don't really know, Jerome. I mean, he asked me to marry him, and maybe he was just scared to get married. Like he wasn't prepared for all of it."

"So he waited for the last moment to wimp out and embarrass you in the middle of everybody you and he knows." It wasn't a question or a guess.

"It's not like that. I'm sure he was scared, but was so happy for me—and himself, of course—but when the time came, it all overwhelmed him.

"So you're defending him, when you're running away from him in the first place?" Jerome attempted to summarized, slow to get the point, which only bothered her more.

"See, Jerome? You don't understand! It's… complicated," she answered under her breath, but Jerome understood. He rose his hands like it would protect him, and she said nothing in response. She no longer had anything to say on this. He was the wrong person to say all of this t.

So why did she tell him in the first place? Why did she cave into his seducing ways to let him know her secret that she refused to tell even Amber?

It was too much to think about. Not now. Instead, something else invaded her mind. Glancing at him suspiciously, she questioned, "Why do you care so much about all of this? Don't you have your own life to worry about?"

He shrugged simply. "I dunno. Curiosity overcame me, what can I say?" Inside, he realized Taylor asked this same question not too long ago. What is it with girls asking questions like that, ones he couldn't answer?

Silence enveloped the two, and she found her head resting on his shoulder, and other than that, they both remained stiff in their positions. She didn't care if he found it awkward or anything, because he didn't seem to mind. She didn't even care; she just needed a time to keep still and peacefully quiet. She took in the blissful moment as the silky white skies grew gray for future rain. It wouldn't be long before she had to return home and face Amber after stomping out in a huff like she did.

"… I should get going. Amber may want to know where I went," Mara interrupted the moment after it lasted that; a moment. She got off the bench and looked down at him. Her cheek felt warm, after being comforted by his jacketed shoulder. And with that feeling inside her, she wanted to escape her.

He followed suit, getting up to once again look down at her. "I'll take you. Might as well

"I don't need an escort," Mara argued with tight lips.

"No, you very much don't, Jaffray," he said, pointing. Then he flashed a lovely smile. "You just need a friend."

His voice was not the kind to make anything sappy, which Mara was thankful for, because his generosity was nothing more than what he was implying; he was, and always will be, a good friend. They walked toward Amber's house, and Mara was slightly disturbed with her thoughts.

… Just that, right? Just friends?

* * *

Amber was brushing her hair delicately, wanting to get it just perfect. Why? For no reason other than to simply have fabulous hair.

Well, not only that-though it was a huge reason-but while brushing her hair, she often went into deep concentration with her thoughts. That mishap with Mara, coming in at such a bad time… actually, Amber was amused by it. Mara was so defensive and emotional. She just wished she knew where she was, because Mara hadn't been in London for years. What if she forgot her way around and got lost?

Amber laughed to herself. If only she wasn't so daft and actually thought things through. But the poor girl was too emotional to sort out her brain in any way. So rather than chase her off like a human chases a dog who caught the owner's slipper in their fangs, she decided to wait for Mara to come back on her own—and tell her all she needed to know. The walk would cool off the steam she produced while here.

The second she heard the door open, she smiled a devilish smile, put down her hairbrush, though fluffing her silky strands one last time, before heading into the beige hallway.

"Mara, is that you?" Amber said, half singing in absolute delight as she peeked through the corner and at the door.

"Yes, I'm back," Mara answered, appear in the room as she spoke, and her voice told Amber a million words. Gentle and stable, and she imagined a smile painted on her face; she had healed during her walk. Not like Amber doubted it.

"How are you now?" she decided to play, pretend like she didn't know she was feeling better.

"I'm fine," Mara said, dodging Amber's gaze as she tossed her purse onto the couch casually before heading into the kitchen. "

"I'm guessing your walk went well," Amber noted, following her friend. "You seem very happy."

"Everything is alright now, Amber. In fact, I think I should tell you what happened between me and Mick?"

Talk about icing on the cake! Amber thought gaily. She nearly ran over to Mara and asked, "Tell me everything. I'm sure it'll feel great to get it all out." She had Mara sit on the couch beside her. She placed her hands in front of her, losing her containment on her excitement.

But when Mara slowly got into the story, and it all clicked into Amber's head, her enthusiasm dimmed, her face falling into a somber look. She placed her hands on Mara's lap, which Mara covered with a sweet smile. They smiled solemnly at one another when she finished.

Amber frowned, though, when she replied, "That son of a bitch!" She shook her head violently as she shut her eyes. It was all unbelievable, but what else could she suspect from someone like Mick, who broke her own heart when they were teens. Only it's much more real now that they were adults, facing reality at its toughest without bringing heartbreak into the mix. "I'm so sorry he did that to you! I—you have every right to be mad at him."

Mara tilted her head downward. "Amber, I don't know if I'm mad anymore."

This—this surprised her. "What?"

"I don't even know what he was thinking when he was going through this. Maybe he was scared, maybe he wasn't ready. I'm not here to run away from him. I'm here to clear my mind and see if I can go back to face him ever again," Mara informed her.

Amber gaped. She didn't know what to think, aside from wanting to persuade Mara otherwise. "I…" But she stopped herself. As angry as she was, she didn't know Mick anymore, didn't know how much he changed over the years. What was he thinking during all of this? He did not do so purposely, did he? He wasn't an ass, just a stupid git.

But something inside her made her think otherwise, a darker side of her that made her think negatively. She always saw Mick to be a heartbreaker, and he was doing it again. "Mara, you really should think about this. Maybe… maybe you being back here is a sign to move on with your life. Meet new people!" She shut herself up entirely that time. Did she say too much?

Mara nodded, but grinned at what Amber last said. Amber flashed a smile herself, only innocently and not a sign that Amber was caught. "By the way… I met someone while waiting for you at the café where Patricia works," Mara began slyly.

"Oh, yeah, I had to do extra time at work," Amber interrupted casually. Then she met Mara's eyes with a raised brow of feigned curiosity. "What about it?"

"Jerome was there—" Mara brought up, attempting to be unrehearsed, but only someone as slow as Amber could not get it. Did she?

Amber interrupted her anyway, with a squeal of excitement, as if she weren't a part of it at all. "Ooh, how did it go? It's like a happy accident, right? That must've been nice."

Mara decided not to play games any longer. She rolled her eyes and said, "Amber, Jerome told me and Patricia that you basically tricked him to go there. You set that up, didn't you? You told him to go while I was there to have us… what did you do that for, anyway?"

A dark flash invaded Amber's eyes. She tried to shy away but decided against it and instead tilted her head innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said with a shrug.

"So Jerome lied to me when he said the only reason he went to Patricia's work while I was there? Jerome may be tricky, but I doubt that's anything of a coincidence. Amber, if you just tell me the truth…I won't be mad. I just want to know why."

Amber hesitated to answer, but Mara knew that she was only stalling. But it was useless, since they lived together. She crossed her arms and waited for a long time. Eventually, she wanted to just give up and go to bed—though it was only a minute, maybe less. Finally, "Alright, maybe I did, uh, tell a certain boy to meet me there when I promised you I would meet you there. And I never showed up" She blinked very innocently.

"Well, why?" Mara asked, careful not to let her anger get the best of her. None of this made any sense to her.

Amber shrugged vaguely, to which Mara huffed. Finally, Amber gave in with a bubbly expression, no longer able to hold it in. "Why, it's so simple, Mara! I'm trying to help you forget Mick!"

"Why would Jerome help me forget about Mick?" she asked. With the fact I told him what happened with Mick, it's the exact opposite.

"Because I thought you would be happy to see Jerome. You two are so sweet together. And it would take your mind off him a bit. It would help you get through th—"

Mara realized that all through Amber's spiel, her mouth had dropped open. She shut it only to break her off, "Yes, I am aware of that, but… what are you talking about? Jerome and…. and me?" Her eyebrows creased.

This surprised Amber, throwing her slightly aback. "You really had no idea? You couldn't see it at all? You're supposed to be the brainiac, Mara!" She levitated a hand in the air before Mara could snap back at her, which she would have done more than willingly. "Well believe me, you two really had chemistry in high school—and not the school kind, obviously. And I'm really surprised you never figured this out until now. I mean, I get you were dating Mick, but… you didn't see it at all?" Amber said like the idea was scandalous. She plopped onto the couch, swirling her wine in her glass. How many did she have?

Mara sat beside her and observed her face. Nothing too bad, eyes neither bloodshot nor foggy. Maybe this was her first. She bit her lip. "I never knew, I just didn't. Perhaps I—I was in love with Mick too much to see it. I never even knew Jerome liked me. At all."

"I never said he did, but, yes, he totally did. Everyone could see it," Amber said, nodding in agreement despite her bemusement.

"Actually, he said it. At the café. Before I could leave, he told me… that he loved me."

Amber's eyes popped open, almost like how it happens in an animated cartoon. She covered her mouth with her hands scandalously. "Did he really? How did you react? Oh my gosh, I would have lost it!"

"I ran out! Besides, Amber, he said loved. As in, past tense. He obviously doesn't feel the same way. He did it just to mess with my head—that's how he is. B-but it doesn't matter because I don't feel anything for him at all! You have no idea what happened, anyway!" she sneered, wishing now more than ever they got off the topic of Jerome. She'd rather talk about Mick.

"I don't, but you can tell me," Amber mused, leaning in, her hand cupped close to her ear. Mara groaned but did not try to protest.

"Patricia and he got in a fight, we sat down, talked, and then he mentioned Mick, and I poured coffee all over him," Mara summarized blankly, not even flinching at the word Mick. She was getting better. Often just thinking of his name made her struggle not to sob. Heck, the airplane workers asked what her problem was while on the ride there. She said nothing, of course, no matter how sympathetic the woman sounded.

"Coffee?" Amber's mouth fell open. Although Mara had no idea what she was shocked at. They went to a coffee café, for heaven's sake.

"Black coffee. Extra hot since I just bought it. But it was worth it, what with the way he was talking about Mick!" Mara growled. "And he knew I wouldn't like it. That's so like him!"

Amber had no way to reply, her enthusiasm draining as Mara's words processed. Her plan didn't go quite well—in fact, it went pretty horrid, apparently. She was getting mad at Jerome. Oh, why did he have to make things so complicated? She agreed with Mara, only not verbally. Hoping to make amends for him, she said, "Well, whatever he said, I'm sure he didn't mean it."

Mara's silence was an answer that was open to interpretation, but Amber's mind to on a path she liked best. While the topics of both Mick and Jerome were dismissed for the rest of the night, Amber felt an accomplishment she hadn't felt since meeting Luke.


	6. Six

Chapter Six

The Next Chapter

(aren't I hilarious? Hahaha!)

Walking around the foggy streets deeper into the heart of London, Amber and Mara decided to take the whole day off to do nothing but sightsee the gargantuan city with the feel of nostalgia coming about the latter. Amber had seen each piece several times, but never as a tourist. Mara, having been gone for over half a decade, felt like she was missing something for a while, and this was certainly part of it. Whether it be the London Eye or even new shopping malls Amber has yet to introduce her to, they would go to see it all; and take photos, if Mara wanted.

They came across a long gray bridge that snaked across a narrow river, and Mara greedily snapped a photo of the scene of cool water that flowed like a gentle fall breeze down the city and the buildings before them. It was all so, so silly, but it made Mara forget everything and everyone going on in Australia, so she liked it this way.

Besides, Amber suggested something along the lines of this… sort of. Before leaving for the day of relaxation, which was not entirely planned at that moment, Amber was looking through Mara's suitcase. It was only half unpacked, and Amber felt helpful enough to get everything out herself, snooping through every part of it in the process. Of course without Mara's permission; as if she bothered to ask. One was an album.

"Why in the world would you bring a photo album of just about nothing but you and Mick in Australia?" she asked in consternation, turning behind her shoulder to find Mara directly behind her with a caustic glare and changed into a black button down and navy white capris.

"I wasn't thinking when I ran away!" Mara defended herself, with some desperation that did not help herself in any way. "I thought it—I don't know." Oh, how weak she felt. Why couldn't she have just thrown it away?

The idea struck her, gradually, but nonetheless, while thinking of it, she said, "Let me have them, Amber. I'll take them out."

"I won't let you take a single look at these photos! Staring at old photos of you and Mick will only make things more complicated!" Amber argued, a slight fire in her eyes that caught Amber off guard. She was so angry about this… but why?

However, Mara was very nonchalant about this, confident even. "I'm going to throw them away. Somewhere, anyway, I don't know. I think maybe throwing them away will somehow get me through this."

Amber's face lit up like the buildings do in the night. "Brilliant. See, I knew you were still smart!"

Mara rolled her eyes. "Where's the trash can? Unless… you have some other idea," she quirked a brow at Amber, who was one to do this so dramatically. But this time, Mara would not mind one bit; for once, she'd suck in Amber's confidence in silly ways to do things that reminded Mara of overdramatic movies.

An almost wicked smile stretched across Amber's face, but her eyes were too wide and excited to make it seem anything as such. "I have the perfect idea."

When Amber remained silent and, in fact, started to get her leather boots on, Mara slowly brought up courage to ask, "And, uh, what is that?"

"I'm not telling yet, silly! It's a surprise. I know you love surprises."

"Very much. Especially yesterday's," Mara replied dully.

So (back in present time) Mara kept sneaking glancing at Amber at the corner of her eyes. What did she have in store, and why were they going across a bridge? They never came to this part of the city, and she didn't care to. It was almost patience breaking, but she kept her cool until Amber would stop and tell her what her plans were.

Eventually, near the center of the bridge, it happened. Stopping dead in her tracks, she caught Mara off guard and pointed in front of the side of the bridge. She walked over and peered over the edge, Mara following suit; though she had no clue what the purpose was of this. It was… a nice bridge. For, you know, a bridge. It must've been forty, fifty feet away from the water, and a boat was passing by.

"Got the photos?" Amber asked.

Mara rolled her eyes, that alone answering her question. _Of course, it's the reason you dragged me out of the house like you had! _She pulled out the tan folder of papers from her purse and struggled to keep them in her grasp against the wind that was more violent than not.

"Now, the boat is about to go completely under, so once it leaves, throw that down!" Amber announced with a smile that Mara officially deemed 'insane.' She blinked and shook her head; did she hear her correctly?

"You want me… to throw these photos off this bridge?" Mara wanted to clarify, eyebrows practically jumping up. And though she hated to admit it, it made her smile in amusement.

"Yes! Isn't it just brilliant? I think it's been in movies before. I image it works because it's literally throwing your troubles away," Amber explains with such a goofy and silly expression. She gestured to the photos all in Mara's grasp; they were clipped together, all twenty-two of them. Yes, she counted.

Mara faltered. "I—um, can't we get in trouble for this? Littering the water with stupid photos? Maybe we can just make put them over the oven and burn them up… " her voice squeaked a little, and she struggled to keep eye contact with Amber.

Amber waved her troubles away. "Stop being such a worrywart! Just throw them away, and be quick with it. It's only papers—they'll soak up in the water in seconds. No worries," she said euphorically, like this was the answer to all of her problems. But with that face, for all Mara knew, it might have been. Which might explain why Amber was so giggly and lacking of much seriousness even back in high school.

Mara looked over the bridge, which looked about fifty feet from the water below, which had a soft glow to it upon reflecting to the beaming sun. A boat was passing under as she peered below. She distracted herself with the scenery rather than doing what they came here to do.

Amber caught on with her, elbowed the black haired woman, and she jumped. "Do it, Mara!" she said.

Mara closed her eyes, remembered why she was doing this in the first place, and felt in just the right place. She did not even watch them cascade into the water below. When the feel of the photographs in the folder were gone from her fingertips, she turned on her heels and walked away. Didn't take one peek. She didn't need to.

"How do you feel?" The way Amber asked that reminded Mara of therapy sessions. She just needed to place her hair in a tight bun and sit her down in a long, backed up chair.

Mara shrugged. "Nothing much different." Okay, that was a downright lie. She noticed something different inside her. Something inside her grew bright, like a light. Maybe she felt… free? But from what? She was away from Australia, from Mick. Nothing here could harm her emotionally. What were photos to her?

But she was never away from the memories, she realized. She was too clingy to the past, especially with these photos. She saw now that Amber's idea to toss them away was sort of a symbol—a good one, too.

She, however, didn't want it to be recognized, didn't want to make a huge deal of it. Besides, she already had plans. "How about you just go home? I have to be somewhere anyway."

Amber was caught off guard, which Mara had expected. "Where?"

"The Britain Tribune. They're a new newspaper that was made about a few months ago, and they have several 'jobs wanted,' like an advice column. It's a start, right?" There was a bit of hope in her voice, but also a slight beg for reassurance. Why was she looking for Amber's approval? Oh, well, it was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

Amber smiled. "Good for you. Already, you've got an idea of how to start life here. Maybe I can kick you out of my apartment quicker!" she squealed.

"Amber!" Mara exclaimed, mouth pulling up ever so slightly.

"Yes?"

Despite irritated, she could no longer hold back her laughter, as couldn't Amber. They walked toward the end of the bridge, and that was when she face fell, and the mood dropped dramatically. She groaned, earning a glance from the blond.

"What's up?"

She nodded her head in the direction to a familiar face standing, in a pose that would drive girls crazy, at the other side that they were walking. He was staring far beyond the waters, at the bright blue skies. When he was in a daze, daydreaming to who knows where, he was… very good looking.

She had to get her mind to think of better words for him.

"Oh, it's just Jerome. He doesn't bite—you don't want him to, do you?" Amber said with slyness etched in her glowing eyes.

Mara slapped her shoulder playfully, rolling her eyes as they passed the staring off Jerome.

"Hey, Jerome!" Amber shouted, causing Mara to bark in protest, but it was far too late. Jerome turned around and caught Amber waving over to him and Mara glaring daggers at her waving friend. But Amber didn't seem to notice that one bit, or if she was, she was enjoying it.

Jerome sauntered over, his hands cupped together on the back of his head, trying to be casual but also attempting to be enticing to either girl, though Mara had a feeling that it was more towards her, unfortunately for her. Her lips curled downward at him, but it was as if she were invisible that day, and Jerome greeted with a mischievous glitter in his gaze, "'Ello, you two. Enjoying your little stroll?"

"Somewhat," Mara answered a bit coolly, surprising both colleagues. Glancing at Amber with a suspicious brow, she was about to point something out; once again, she came across Jerome so innocently, both times involving Amber…

However, Amber stopped her, able to read minds, apparently. "I swear I didn't have a thing to do with this. He's just stalking you," Amber said breezily, earning dagger-like glares from Jerome.

But his face fell into a cool stage, and Jerome chuckled in feigned amusement. "Believe me when I say stalking is not really my thing. This situation is only a coincidence, unlike last time." He glared at Amber to give the complete message.

Amber was in her own world, however. She stared back at him and tilted her head. "I have no clue what you're talking about, Clarke. And I don't care; I'm here for Mara, not a silly boy like you," she said with a strange grin that was far worse than if she frowned.

"Well, same goes for you, Millington. I have reminded myself to take you out of my contacts," Jerome informed them with a dissatisfied glitter in his eyes. He rose his phone into the air to prove some kind of point.

"I'm surprised you never took it out," Amber countered. "I already did so. And I've taken you off my Facebook friend's list."

"Oh, then it must be official, if it's on Facebook!"

"Jealous I'm ahead of you on that?" Amber was very cool and very relaxed while arguing in a taunting debate with him, and, in some ways, she was beating him, surprising Mara plenty. She saw on Jerome's face that he saw this, too.

Any tension flushed on his face, though, disappeared, replaced once again by his nonchalant, artful expression that he seemed able to bring about in an instant. She was baffled at how controlled he was of his emotions. "I never had the time nor the ability to give a damn about it." He shrugged and faced Mara with a smile of brilliant white teeth. "How has your day been, Jaffray? Getting use to things back here?"

"I suppose," she answered in a vague way, her eyebrows narrowed. His friendliness, whether honest or not, was unexpected.

His smirk showed his sarcasm about him, especially in what he said: "Don't tell me our little talk didn't give you comfort." He gingerly touched her chin, and she took a step back with her face flushed with embarrassment, noticing Amber watching them despite her silence.

"Jerome," she warned him, fire in her eyes. As if she wanted to hear more from him.

Amber's cell phone rang in her jean's pocket, interrupting the tension. While Mara and Jerome had an exchange of a fight of glares—which she was winning, all while he wasn't even trying to show any hate—she dug into her pocket and flipped open her phone. Picking it up, she asked, "'Ello? … Great to hear from you, baby. You're coming back tomorrow, right? Really? That's fantastic! Okay… okay, I'll see you, 'kay? Bye!" She shut her phone, her face lit up. All of this only took a minute. Jerome and Mara exchanged glances, and she assumed he was thinking the same thing as she; how can someone talk fast like that?

She turned to Mara. "That was Lucas. He's coming back today, like driving back right now. He's supposed to be here in an hour, I think."

"Well, that's great," Mara said, but she had an idea as to what Amber was getting at. "Is he coming to see you now?"

"Yes, and I'm dying to see him. Oh, Mara, you wouldn't mind, right?" Amber asked with an ecstatic glow in her eyes. Mara could see she was dying to meet her boyfriend once more after not seeing him for a while.

Though she did have an uncertainty about where this was going. "Oh, not at all, Mara, but—"

"I mean, can you get a ride home?" Amber cut her off. She wrote a text on her phone while asking.

Her eyes nearly bulged out. "But Amber-!" Mara started to protest, ignoring Jerome's bemused stare at her. Clearly, he did not see why she was so distraught by having Amber leave the two be.

Amber flipped her head up. "Pleeeeeeease, Mara. I swear, after this, we'll do whatever you want… especially if we head to the mall," Amber pleaded with an innocent tilt of her head. Her smile implied she deeply desired to see Lucas again.

Mara thought quickly about it. While she hadn't expected this, she really didn't see the problem, minus finding a way home on her own. And with plenty of cabs scurrying about, maybe that wouldn't be such a huge problem. She smiled and said, "Of course you can. Have a great time with Lucas."

"Yes, have a great time," Jerome echoed, but in a different style of tone, of course. Then he locked his arm into Mara's and said with a flashy smile, "And I'll happily take Mara wherever she pleases."

"What?" She separated from him and shot him an incredulous look.

Amber must've missed it. "Oooh, thank you, thank you!" Amber shouted, pulling—and crushing—Mara in with a hug before hurrying across the street to signal a cab. Just like that, she was gone, leaving dust in her wake.

The two stood alone and at first, it was quiet. The gentle breeze whispered in her ears and tossed about her hair. He was simply watching, to a point where she would almost describe it as uncomfortable.

Then, he nodded. "Want to take a walk?"

"Where?" she asked suspicious, though her smile was prove to not be helpful for her.

"I dunno. Wherever the breeze takes us, I suppose—hah. Sounded much less cliché in my head." Another dazzling smile. "Shall we be off?" Jerome requested, pulling out an arm. He linked his with hers and pulled her inches closer to him. However, she didn't protest in any way. Arms locked, they left the bridge, neither of them thinking as to how people might make of their… status upon seeing them as they were.

A/N: **There is no such thing as 'the Britain Tribune.' I just don't like to use actual names of real life things, unless I'm writing actual fiction or something. I don't know as to why—I just don't like to. **


	7. Seven

Chapter Seven

Adjusting on Another Level

"This food isn't half bad," Mara commented as she put down the fork and pressed the napkin against her stained lips of spaghetti. Their walk took them to a decent restaurant with an elegant aura, including red velvet seats and white cloth tables. While she couldn't afford the entire thing, the only reason she even stepped into this place was how Jerome offered to pay for most of it; she just needed to pay the tip in exchange, which she offered happily.

She gulped down a cup of Coca-Cola and relished its coolness as it soothed her tongue. The spaghetti was still hot, even after receiving it a while ago. This she took as a positive sign that they were decent cooks who used their food the second it was completed.

"Understand of the freakin' decade," muttered Jerome, eyes flashing. He bit into his chicken and leaned against the red chair. "You wouldn't have known this existed without me knowing, and I know good places to hang around here."

"Well, do you have any other plans to go anywhere else after this?" Mara questioned. Granted, she didn't mind spending time with him, but heading back home didn't sound so bad either.

He shrugged. "Maybe. Quite frankly, I made no plans when Amber quit on you so suddenly for her BF." His brows quirked as he observed her reaction to this statement, because it was all true, even if it did come across as a bit harsh.

Mara licked her lips, taking a quick sip before having to answer, giving herself more time to respond. Finally, she said, "She deserves just as much time with her boyfriend instead of me." She pointed at Jerome to begin defending her friend. "She's been helping me very much since I came back here. I think she deserves some time to herself, especially since Lucas has been out of town for a bit."

Jerome flicked his head to the side. "Whatever you say, Jaffray." He paused for a while, and finished off his grilled chicken. He brushed his messy fingers across the napkin set in his shirt and across his chest. Soon after, Mara drank up the last of her soda before realizing just how full she became. To go to McDonalds was just fine alone; it was that she never had the money to go anywhere fancy or with decent food like this. Her insatiable hunger for better food was replenished, thankfully.

"Enjoy it?" he asked, raising his Mountain Dew in agreement.

"Very much. Ah—thank you, Jerome. It was very nice," she complimented honestly.

He flashed a handsome grin that made her heart flutter for reasons she refused to accept. "Quite."

They ate afterwards in silence, mostly because Mara was starving. Finally, their young waiter, who was maybe in his college years, arrived questioning if they were finished. Mara smiled at her friend in agreement and kindly requested the check.

While waiting, Jerome began another conversation: "Do you have anywhere else you plan to go?"

Mara hesitated. "No, not really, but—actually, I might need to go somewhere. It's, uh, no mandatory, but I'd just like to."

"It better not be a library, Mara," Jerome deadpanned.

She stared, baffled, at him. "Actually… yes." She smiled.

Jerome didn't respond immediately. His eyes rolled upward, and he let out a quiet scoff that she heard anyway. "A library? Now I know you're trying to torture me," Jerome said jocularly, slapping his chest with an open calm. She mirrored his amused laugh.

"I have something I'd like to check out. It-it has to do with the job," Mara added in simply to carry on with the subject and to let voices ring in her ear; it was more comfortable than silence unless there was absolutely nothing to say.

"No need to let me know, Mara. Just don't drag me into reading, as well," Jerome informed her casually. He so easily accepted it, even if he was no fan of libraries; that much she knew. She remembered how he would do anything for her back when they were in high school; he did anything to be with her, to make her feel good. And he'd feel awful for moments where she became upset. Now it was years later, and it was the same as always. A twitch made her mouth perk up out of nowhere as she reminisced old times. Thankfully, he did not question this.

The check fell onto the table a few minutes later, and they paid the amount due, Mara giving about seven in a tip generously. She hiccupped, proving she did indeed enjoy the early dinner. Jerome faced her, and she felt a handful of blood rush into her cheeks just to embarrass her more. Oh, how her emotions were not in her control…

While exiting the restaurant, she started to signal a cab to head to the nearest library. Jerome's hand forced hers down, and she shot him a bemused gaze.

"No need to, Mara," said Jerome, stopping her. "The library is only a few blocks away. Don't go all American on me and try to use to the lazy way out of this."

Mara bit her lip, trying not to get in an argument. It was quite a harsh generalization and stereotype against those in the States, but she found herself not wanting to say anything to ruin this outing. They walked across several blocks in silence, having pretty much talked of everything during the lunch.

Jerome dug into his pockets and found a few items. One he put into his mouth, the other close to what he put in his mouth. Tiny flames erupted, and smoke curled into the brisk air. He placed his lighter back into his pocket.

She kept quiet about for a few minutes, but simply couldn't help herself. "I didn't know you smoked," she said, a hint of nervousness invading her face. Her face was flushed with uncertainty in what to say. Her eyes kept invading the cigarette dangling idly at his mouth.

"Problem?" he questioned. His eyebrows jumped up, otherwise making no sign of giving a damn about her thoughts. He pulled it out for a moment to send up a puff of smoky mist to slowly evaporate into the clean, autumn air.

Blush painted her cheeks, feeling stupid for starting a conversation over _that_. "N-no, just didn't… know," she stuttered, then trying to conceal her face in her black curtain of hair.

He stared at her for a few moments, only to shrug it off as they crossed the final block to find the nearest library that lay near their previous location.

They entered the library that, at most, held one thousand books. With this, at least it didn't take one to find the book they desired to dig into. Though it wasn't books that she was looking for.

She found the newspapers of past years easily lying in a basket by the Atlases, which had everything of other newspapers across England. She took a random newspaper and flipped it around in search of a particular article. Jerome watched her as she sat down, and stood over her as she pointed a finger across several pages.

"So you think you can handle dealing with other people's problems? I would probably mock them for going to complete strangers to answer their whiny complaints," Jerome asked out of curiosity.

"And that's why you'd never make a good advisor," Mara quipped, eyes grazing through the paper, including the advice column. The date she was checking out currently was of their previous year. She discovered the advice columns and read it to herself, absorbing all the details about what kind of advice people needed and what "Yvette's" response was.

Yvette was the confirmed name for the future advice column for the Britain Tribune. This was a faithful sign she had a chance, the fact they told her about it.

Whoever the person who gave advice in the article she was skimming through, she did pretty well, giving hard, honest advice that made sense. Though the newspaper never gave information about any previous one, she sounded experienced and honest.

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this," Mara admitted, breathing out heavily. She blew at a stran fo hair that interrupted her vision. Jerome glanced at her again. "I don't know what kind of questions they'll ask, or if I'll be able to answer them."

Jerome pondered that for a minute, doing the whole rubbing-your-chin gesture. He hummed. Then he shrugged. "How about I ask a random piece of advice, and you answer what, you know, pops into your head? See how it goes, you know?" he suggested.

Mara made a gesture with her hands that sounded like, "why not?" "Sure, ask me anything," she said.

Jerome soothed his chin in deep ponder, but this only lasted for less than a minute. "Umm… let's start with this. 'Dear Yvette, I have a friend who I have long had a crush on, yet she has never seen it, the kind of girl that is oblivious to that kind of crap. Is there any way to let her know just how I feel?" Jerome demonstrated.

Mara thought this through, staring at the ceiling as she thought over some ideas. However, gradually, she caught on, and she turned to face Jerome, whose eyes glinted in amusement.

However, from that point on, they stared at each other for a long time, eyes locked in a tight grip, refusing to escape. There was no talking, no mind-reading like people believe they hear when staring at someone they truly care for. It was just… gazing into one another's eyes, _yearning_ to hear what they were thinking.

Jerome's pure blue eyes glistening in the fading lightness of the lights surrounding them. Both of theirs bored into the others as her heart sputtered over and over just by looking over his features. She could not escape his enticing stare. She actually leaned in barely an inch…

Mara cleared her throat, begging herself to get a grip. Thankfully, she did and found herself able to turn away, despite a deep blaze of red erupting in her cheeks. Jerome turned away as well, so she was unable to get details on how he reacted.

"So, uh, what would be your response?" Jerome whispered in her ear, as he had quickly turned back to her. She refused to copy this move, however, as a warmness vibrated up her spine. She thought she felt his breath run into her neck, but ignored it.

Her nostrils flared and she let out a large bundle of air. "Well, I'd uh…" She swallowed and faced him. "I'd say he should sit her down and… and let her know. Tell her how he feels, rather than hiding it from her, because for all he knows, he may be too late to say anything."

"She might have already moved on." Jerome nodded in agreement, but apparently, Mara did not see what he was getting at. She was searching through her papers, pointing out different articles that were similar to what she was signing up for, like they would help her. But this advice was beyond anything she had noticed.

"Then he's already late. But still, it doesn't hurt to try," Mara argued.

"He's probably hurting anyway."

"I don't get it. If he's loved her for so long, he would have moved on so he _wouldn't _have to hurt. He'd move on with his life… at least until she understands," said Mara, lips slowly falling down at the edges. Jerome's eyebrows dropped into diagonal slits.

"People aren't toys! This man desired this woman for so long, and she was too daft to see it. That doesn't mean he should suffer!"

"She never meant to!"

Their voices were beginning to rise as the tension increased. They caught the librarian's attention, and she sat on nearly the other side of the small library. A peeved kid with glasses appeared from his book and shot daggers at them. They noticed neither people.

"But what if it already hurts him, it hurt him before, and it still is. It hurts him on the inside, watching the woman he loves go around, trying to figure out what to do with her life. What if he's tired of just watching when he wants to be a part of her life?" Jerome questioned, slamming a hand on the table.

Mara, in reaction, flinched, realizing the power in his words were from self-experience, the words truly meaning something to him. She no longer desired to get into this debate more, and swallowed away her words. She dug her head back into the paper and scrolled some more, but out of silence as she hoped he would calm down soon.

But in an instant, Jerome's anger depleted, replacing by a barely audible huff. Mara remained quiet as he calmed his raging emotions. Finally, her eyes peeked up at him as he slowly placed himself in the seat beside him. "Well, it seems you've got the idea of what this is like."

"Jerome, I.." She trailed off, unsure what to say. Granted, her voice built up to debate about this, but failed when Jerome's emotions got involved as well.

"Listen, no offense, but this is pretty boring." He tapped against the board table. "How is it going for you? I'm hoping to get home before it gets late, 'cause I have to get to work early in the morning."

Mara glanced between him and the paper, and found herself wanting to stay; not that she needed more time to look around, but because she liked spending time with him. It was hardly at all awkward; despite their momentarily harsh argument, she couldn't carry a grudge against it for long. Rather, she found happiness being with him. This whole day's simplicity made her smile; that was all she needed.

"We can go now. I didn't really have to come here," she stated. "I just wanted to take a quick look at these articles. I'm ready when you are."

He stood up first, and stretched out his hand to lead her up onto her feet. She took it with no reluctance, and they exited the library. She peeked with a smile at him, but twisted her head away when he got close to catching her. His hand spread warmth into his, yet she tried to stop herself from feeling so close to him. She felt a forbidding vibe about it, begging her to not feel so great with him.

It was so strange, something she never expected herself to think, so she put it behind her as they entered the night-filled skies which were painted with stars. The moon beamed bright white against the world before them. When she stared at him one more time, the moon reflected against him, giving him a porcelain glow.

"Something wrong? There's nothing in my teeth from lunch, is there?" He gave a look of concern as he picked his fingers against his teeth.

Mara giggled. "No, you're fine."

* * *

The cab Jerome flagged stopped at Amber's house. Jerome took out his wallet, but Mara slapped his hand. "Hey!" Jerome exclaimed.

"I'm not letting you pay for everything. At least let me get this," Mara insisted. Though inside, she just wished she had let it go, no matter how bad she'd felt. In her purse was pretty much exactly the price of the cab ride—plus a few extra dollars—so she'd need to take a huge break in going out at all.

"Fine," Jerome said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. He placed his wallet back in his pocket.

He watched her pay and, before she could upon the door, he put a hand on her arm that wasn't holding the lever that opened the door.

He didn't say anything. She slowly turned. "Yes, Jerome?"

"Thank you for a wonderful time, Jaffray. Call me when you get the chance." He put out his hand, and in between his fingers lay a tiny paper ripped in one side. She took it after a moment of staring. Their eyes met once last time. She blinked and found herself _very _close to him.

He smiled before pecking her cheek. His lips brushed and lingered on hers for what she swore lasted a long while; though it lasted merely a second. For her, time stood still as a warm feeling enveloped that part of her face, a strange feeling making her stomach flip and light up with delight. She found strength in her feet once they didn't feel like jell-o, and exited the cab. It zoomed off, and she tried to see his face one last time, but the cab disappeared in the midst of the darkened end of the day.

Only when the cold wind reminded her where she was did have the ability to move her feet. She went home and tried to forget that entirely, even as she anticipated Amber interrogating her

The problem was that she couldn't.

* * *

The next morning arrived before Jerome could process it, but he hurried to work with enough time on his hands. While grabbing a water from the vending machine, he passed by a familiar face and stopped, only taking a sip before greeting like he constantly did with the man: "Morning, Nathan. Bang any strange woman recently?"

Nathan Garner, a man with a dark brown scruff and matching colored hair flipped to the side, quirked his brows and let out a tiny chuckle. "Yeah, your sister. She probably might call later to tell you 'bout it."

"Oooh, ouch!" hissed Jerome mockingly; though he had an urge to slap his face off. Still, remarks like those from the… could he call this asshole his friend? He was okay… you know, when he wasn't being an asshole. He grinned. "You're going to pay for that one later."

"Yeah, yeah." Nathan tipped up his coffee cup, lacking concern about Jerome's fake threat.

Nathan's eyes flashed into his as they turned face to face. "So how's that girl from Australia?" he asked.

Jerome groaned. "She's not from Australia, she was just living there with a prat I knew from high school."

"Ah," mused Nathan in realization. "But still, she just went off with the prat anyway," Nathan pointed out, slouching against the table. He set his hands into his pockets.

"She was a mere child back then, Nathaniel. She was very confused about her life and everything. The poor girl went through shit until she realized it was better here. Her wedding was the worst. Oh, it must've been embarrassing. I might've laughed if I was there, though. I had trouble laughing when she told me."

Nathan rolled his eyes, causing Jerome to raise a brow. "What? Oh, geez, I'm hanging around too many girls, aren't I? Damn it, I got to stop talking so much."

"Nah, I don't care 'bout that. You can't… just shut the fuck up 'bout _her_, can you?" Nathan questioned, irritation nearly tangible in his tone. "Taylor doesn't shut up either about it. Seriously, I don't care about this."

The Anubis grad smile stayed, yet he felt a burning in his veins at those harsh words. "Oh, Nathan, I could say the same about your dog, Winfrey, which is really sad against a, you know, an actual girl." He nodded.

The other model ignored that. "Please. You really think she's going to stay for long? From what you told me, she's probably going to run off with that sports boy, like she's done so many times before, according to you. Remember when you told me all those times she broke your heart, each time she got closer to you but then ran right back into his arms?" Nathan smirked. He was pleased by the torture he caused, the fire he was gradually setting.

Jerome remained unresponsive. "She's just one of those girls, maybe; she messed with somebody, even if she doesn't know it. She does it because she loves somebody too much. She'll run back to him in the end because she thinks that, even after all the shit he puts her through, that she loves him, that he loves her."

"Don't start," Jerome hissed, a bitter taste lingering in his tongue, mouth curled into a snarl. A few workers inside the building

"I've seen it before, Mr. Clarke. I've seen and heard shit like that. It happens. Shame it happens to you when you're so oblivious on the fact it's happening right in front of your eyes."

"Shut up," Jerome threatened under his breath.

Nathan inched closer to him. "What are you going to do 'bout it, Clarke? I doubt you can fight as big as you can chit-chat your ways through conversation," smirked Nathan.

Jerome began by pushing him, yet that appeared to be enough to get the idea something was about to erupt. Gasps and anticipated "oooooooh"'s erupted from the room filled of either workers or models in for the day. Nathan gave him a threatening look and muttered cusses under his breath. He then pushed him back, just as hard and enough to smash him against the wall. Someone ran to get another person to get help before blood was spilt; Jerome begged it wouldn't be his own.

The two struggled, vice grips against the other's shoulders in attempts to throw the other down. In the end, Jerome won out and sent Nathan nearly to the ground. Nathan, after getting back on his feet, glowered viciously at him and lunged once more. They thrashed amongst their fight and tried punching their faces, kicking their… weak spots. While nothing horribly violent, if someone was to say things went swimmingly ought to have their faces punched as well.

Before another punch or kick could be thrown out, however, two people grabbed both arguers. Taylor was the one to grab Nathan, grasping tightly against his dark red shirt and pointing at him, saying a few sharp… particular words that Jerome dare not to repeat later on, should he need to. He did not meet her eyes, but he felt that once she faced him, dagger-like glowers were attempting to pierce his soul into a million pieces. Nothing new from her.

The person who grabbed him was a model, a woman who indeed had a perfect figure and gorgeous blond hair brushed into silky strands. He flashed a grin at her, but she just scoffed and rolled her eyes. Oh, a scoffer. Those were his favorite.

"You know, if I wasn't already looking at another girl, we could have hung out some time." He winked.

She grumbled something along the words ending in "ick," but he couldn't be too sure. She at least wasn't chiding him like a little kid. But when Daniel entered the room, of course everyone shut up and stiffened in their positions instantly. It was as if he had a gift about him, to throw silence across the room just by stepping a foot in.

"Are we suddenly back in high school, where everybody is fighting over the stupidest shit! You two!" Daniel demanded with a scrunched up face of irritation, pointing at both rapidly. Both handsome men froze in their spots. "Another disruption for the peace here will get you two fired. Since you two have a decent record, I'll let it go. But remember… you're not children anymore."

That alone was enough to let Daniel's shoulders drop, and shut down. His stare at Jerome was a narrowed stare, but not as threatening anymore. Not now, at least.

And somehow, the older man composed, brushing his brown, graying hair back. He stepped out, and the day continued in eerie, somewhat awkward silence. While Jerome posed for a new line of the Gap, he doubted many of them could be near decent, what with the lack of containing his emotions in well.

**A/N: I apologize for the long absence from this chapter. Truth be told, I barely had anything just last week, so if some things seem choppy (REALLY choppy), blame my pressure to get this chapter in, because I barely like this chapter, really. The next chapter is close to complete, and is much more exciting, so that MIGHT come out quicker. I really should have gotten most of this done before I got into it. :/ Stupid me.**


	8. Eight

Chapter Eight

Unexpected Company

Mara departed from her interview and the building it took place in with a heavy breath. She felt so stressed, talking to someone whose decision that rested heavily on their shoulders meant whether or not she was ready for the job. And she needed this job; everywhere else it felt like no one was hiring, that or she wasn't up for the occupation.

But she remained confident. The thing as a whole went fine, in her opinion. No stuttering, direct eye contact, and all smiles. Moreover, she got a good vibe in exchange from the interviewer, who throughout it seemed stoic but otherwise pleased. At least, that was what she hoped.

Mara wanted to call her friends to see if they were around, as she wanted to get her mind off the interview and the possibility of a career. But Jerome was out of the city for the day to go to more scenic areas to model from, and Amber just wasn't answering her phone. She was walking down the street toward home, which was only a few miles away from the building the interview was at, texting Patricia to see if she was done with work or on break, when it happened.

It was deep in the pit of her stomach. While it was vague, well, it sure wasn't a good feel. She searched through the streets as a raging paranoia rushed through her. And in an instant, she saw that her instincts were right for once… and for once, she didn't like that she was right. Her face paled as she saw a very, very familiar male with blond hair swept to the side. At first, he probably did not even see her until he glanced across the street. But when he did, recognition had crossed his face, and it was too late to stop it.

His electric smile was so gay and innocent, she felt bad for wanting it to go away so much. He waved as their eyes met, and he shouted, "Hey, there!"

_Shit, shit, shit, shit. Oh, this can't be real._

"Mara, Mara over here!" he shouted, waving his hand in the air, practically forcing everyone's attention onto him, as well as her. She hid her face behind her hand uselessly and hurried to the corner of the street, hoping that maybe it was somebody else. … Only who else had dirty blond hair and a handsome, adorable face like Mick's?

It took a second for Mara to remain frozen where she stood until he lost his patience and headed across the street. He waited for a rapid passing car but still got to her before she could move away or think of an excuse to leave before he could start a conversation with her.

She couldn't do that, no way. Not as if she had a choice to be a good liar in the first place. Because once Mick was feet away from her, she knew she was trapped. And—yup, there he was. Still the same as he was a week or two ago; she lost count. "Mara, I'm so glad to see you!"

He embraced her warmly, and she returned the hug out of kindness, not wanting to be rude. Still, she did not know what to think. "How did you find me?"

Mick was thrown off, obviously not liking how that sounded. She figured it all out and was close to opening her mouth to give him sympathy, but a dark voice in her head said, He does not deserve it. _You're being honest; that isn't illegal, is it?_

"You told me you were staying with Amber, yeah?" he asked, getting a nod from her in response. "Well, I knew she stayed here in London, and I thought I'd come here and find you."

"But why?" she asked with slight urgency. Why would he waste his time and money on her when she was persistent on staying here, no matter what?

"… Can we sit?" he requested in an instant, pointing a thumb at a bench just several feet away. She nodded seriously and followed him to the bench that was currently empty. When she sat down, she sat as far away from him as possible, forcing herself not to make eye contact, even when she asked:

"Okay, why are you here?"

"I would think that's obvious, Mara," he says blankly, and when she plays the silent game too long, he sighs. "I-I want you back, Mara. With me. In Australia," Mick said in a hushed yet pleading whisper.

She caved, stared at him, looking deep into his gorgeous eyes. They were what got her at first, because there was a lot one can tell about the eyes; how someone is feeling or if they were lying. However, here, he was anything but a liar, sincere to the core. He really meant it. He wanted her back, didn't he? And the fact that he rode all the way from Australia just to get her back; most men would just leave it be and go on to another girl. But… he really loved her, didn't he?

Nevertheless, old scars remained, haunting her. The wedding disaster, that moment where he suddenly lost courage at the altar and burst through the doors before anyone could reply, or before she could burst into tears. That broke her heart, and she was still unsure if he would do it again. She turned away. "How can I trust you after what happened?"

"Well, then let's just not get married yet. It wasn't that I didn't love you or anything—I do, I really do," he said with absolute heart in his words. It almost melted hers. "It's just that…I wasn't ready. We have the rest of our lives to get married. And it gets stressful eventually. Wouldn't you rather keep things slow and simple, without a stupid certificate getting in the way?"

"If it's so stupid, why is it such a problem for you?" she asked, knowing deep down in her heart she was acting silly. Granted, she was bursting into tears at one point before the wedding, and his hesitance to even finish it broke her heart, but she should not be so rash about his opinions.

Mick shook his head, unable to reply to that. He rubbed his head and was able to say, "I don't know… I really don't, Mara. I—what matters is that I love you. And a paper and our problem shouldn't get in the way of that. I mean, you—you wouldn't have said yes unless you meant it, right?" He stared into her eyes expectantly and waited for her.

She, too, was unable to find the right words. She bit her lip and struggled to figure out what was in her heart right now. She hated what he had done, how stupid he acted, but… did she truly hate him?

"I really have to think about this, alright?" She sighed. "It's a lot to think about."

"I know that, I really do." He was so patient with her, able to keep calm with her unless she royally messed up. But he was the one who messed up in this case, wasn't he? "I'll wait as long as I can as long as you can have a final answer when you're ready."

"Mick… thank you so much for understanding."

Silence enveloped the two, until his eyes observed her more, particularly invading her right fingers. He squinted. "Where's your ring?"

Mara wilted in her place, for some reason embarrassed by this. She was so confident that moment; she was quite proud of herself. Now it seemed a bit silly. "I don't have it anymore. I-I threw it over a bridge." Now that she was in front of him, feeling sympathy, she felt horrible about doing that. It was pretty expensive, too. "I'm sorry. I was so sure that I was over with all of this, but…"

"But what?" Mick asked, not demanding she continue, but rather waiting. He learned to be less arrogant about Mara's timid moments as they dated, at least.

"I… Mick, I honestly don't know." She rubbed the back of her neck in nervousness. It was too awkward to talk about this in public; her paranoia was at its best today, apparently. She sighed before saying, "Can we just go to my place to talk about this?"

"Aren't you living with Amber?" Mick asked with a raised brow, and Mara understood. He and Amber never got along after their breakup—him dumping her, specifically. That stung her enough to forever bear a grudge against him, and the idea of being in the same room was probably as awkward for him as it was for Mara to speak of this in public.

"Well, she hasn't answered her phone for me, so maybe she's at work. She's been getting caught doing that a lot, with her boyfriend," she added, hoping to calm him a bit with that piece of information.

Mick nodded. "Alright. Then lead the way." He gestured her forward, only she headed across the street to the right. She giggled as a silly little blush erupted from his cheeks. They walked another quarter mile in absolute silence, and Mara was not entirely sure if she was thankful for it. After all, she did not want to talk about this just yet; there was a lot to talk about at home, and yet, she wanted him to talk about something.

Mick broke into the silence finally by asking a bit absentmindedly, "How has it been, Mara? Here?"

"I, uh, just got back from a job interview. I felt bad for Amber doing so much for me that I decided to at least help with the rent," Mara informed him with a sweet smile that was welcoming enough to tell him she wanted him to keep talking. She felt relief knowing she could talk to him without feeling like her heart would explode through her chest.

"Awesome, but what are you doing here?" Mick asked, reminding Mara darkly that she did not work while with Mick except as a student teacher. And that just did not suit her anymore; here, she felt a thousand possibilities open while being her own person.

"Journalism. Well, actually, I'm working for a paper here—the advice column."

"Great." Though he tried to sound interest, she knew he probably found it dull. She, however, did not say anything. So an awkward feeling erupted between them for the rest of their walk. Mara felt such relief when she found Amber's place, glad to leave behind the tension.

Though she almost forgot to take into account how Amber had a grudge against Mick, so seeing him would probably be a problem. Maybe if she convinced Amber she was trying to give Mick a second chance.

She used the key to peer her head into the house and called out, "Amber, you home?"

"Having lunch!"

She entered, and the second she allowed Mick in, he was in Amber's sighting, an instinct target to a pair of oblivious eyes…

That turned to daggers at the realization of whom he was.

Amber took no time to see Mick and react instantly. She put on an angry face that even Mara took seriously—and slightly feared. Her eyes widened as she approached the two, staring daggers at Mick specifically.

"Get. Him. Out. Now, Mara," Amber demanded darkly, a fire in eyes blazing harsh enough to probably burn metal. As silly as that metaphor was, Mara still felt entirely intimidated by that devilish glower.

With Mick at her side, though, by her side, she knew she had to defend him. She was trying to get used to being around him, not throw him out. After all the trouble of getting a ride here… "He's my guest, Amber. It's just a visit, anyway. There isn't enough room anyway—"

"I don't even want him in this apartment, or this city!" she screeched, tossing Mara into recoil. She stepped back and exchanged a worried glance to Mick, not sure what to think. Sure, Amber had her anger issues like every other person when their buttons were pushed wrong, but this was something else.

"Calm down, Amber! You're overreacting," Mara defended, her eyes wide. "Can we talk about this, at least?"

"Oh, we have a lot to talk about," Amber declared, and suddenly grabbed Mara's arm just below her elbow and just about dragged her into the bathroom. Mara protested and hoped Mick would stick around long enough for her to let him know what was going on…whatever the hell was about to happen. Amber shut the door with a vicious glare and said, "What is he doing here? Why isn't he in Australia?"

"He came all the way here to ask me to come back," Mara answered just as fiercely. What was Amber's problem? Whatever it was, Mara wasn't going to let Amber take control, not when Mick was involved. "Is that so horrible?"

"You're not thinking of going back with him, are you?" Amber asked, her lips a straight line of an angry, stoic look.

Mara stiffened in place, leaning against the wall. She let out a breath, her eyes shut, and said, "I don't really know anymore, Amber. I really don't." She rubbed her hands against her temples on the sides of her forehead. They—that is, Mara and Mick—still had to discuss that, but all the while, it was still on her mind, never escaping. It bothered her so much, to a point where she could use some aspirin.

"How can you be so daft?" Amber growled.

"I'm just… thinking he might deserve one. It doesn't mean I absolutely will," she defended.

"I know you, Mara. I doubt you actually have the guts to leave him again," Amber declared with her hands at her hips.

"How do you know? And why do you care? It's my life, not yours."

"I'm just being a good friend," Amber explained.

But it wasn't enough for Mara, not at all. "I don't think that's the reason, Amber. I feel like you're not telling me something," Mara concluded with her arms firmly crossed over her chest.

Amber began to stutter and attempt to go more into detail of her reasoning, only to groan loudly. "He and I were perfect for each other, Mara!" she snapped. "Until he dumped me, got with you, and now here you are! He's made both of us suffer just because he's an absolute bastard who doesn't know a thing about love. And if he so hesitant, he doesn't deserve it because he'll break your heart in the end, just like mine." Tears ruined her gorgeous face, instantly changing her eyes to a bloodshot red, leaving Mara speechless as she processed all of this.

"Amber… I'm…" She did not know what she was anymore, aside from confused.

"Whatever. I don't care. Just get him out of here, please!" It was more of a beg more, as tears kept destroying her angry phase.

Mara sighed. "All I want is to see if he deserves a second chance. I think I can handle things on my own with this. I know I can," she said with a reassuring hand placed on Amber's shoulder.

Finally, Amber relaxed herself, and had a softer look, but not too much to take Mara away until she said, "Alright, fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh, thank you," Mara acknowledged, embracing her friend warmly before heading to the door. "I'm so glad you understand. At least now, you have someone who truly cares for you."

"Yes, quite. Lucas is really great. In fact, he's going to be here soon for our date. I don't suppose you want to tag along as a sort of double date, do you?" Amber suggested, though Mara knew deep down, Amber was completely against the idea.

"No, I think it's best if Mick and I try to be together along for a while, just to sort of get used to it again."

"Alright-y, then. I'll see you… two later," Amber mumbled before heading into the hallway, Mara following shortly behind her.

A car beeped right outside, close enough to catch both girls' attention. Amber peered outside first and squealed. "That's Lucas. Ta-ta!" she shouted, lacking any more concern for the boy she despised being in the room. She disappeared in an instant, throwing the door open and close with a slam.

It became uncomfortable for a few moments before Mick, rubbing the back of his neck, said, "Do you, um, want to go for a walk or something?"

"Sure," Mara replied vaguely, grabbing her white converse—or, to better describe them, a very dirty white—and pulled them on. She reminded herself of the days where she helped Mick practice his training for soccer. It was one of their best bonding moments ever. She smiled at the memory, and it inspired her to get up with a new burst of energy. "Let's get going." She grabbed his arm and nearly ran out the door.

The outside was cool, borderline shivering cold. Luckily, she kept on her black cardigan, and Mick had on a dark denim jacket. He laughed at her sudden enthusiasm. "Alright, where do you want to go?"

Jerome had a suspicious feel something was up the second he saw Amber in his contacts while eating lunch at his place. Why the hell did he still have her on there anyway? By now, he should have blocked her, or at least given her a piece of his mind. He even told her, damn it.

But the way she summarized what was going on spooked him a bit. His reaction was worse, too. The second Mick was mentioned, he felt a fire in his heart, a reminder at how much he despised the guy, all because he dated his crush.

He left home without a second thought, all while Amber explained she had no idea where they were but hopefully, they were not too far away from her house. He would just have to go from there and see what Mick wanted from her.

At first, he actually did question why he was doing this. Wasn't it considered stalking? Hell, yes. And yet, he felt it necessary… for himself, of course. He felt he was protecting Mara from getting hurt again. That was all. With those words, that persuasion, that made him believe he was doing a good thing, and he walked several blocks to find Amber's apartment.

He went from there, searching the area for the two before heading in a random direction. Wasting his time because he simply felt like it.

So when he spotted the two crossing a street not several blocks from the apartment, he had an urge to follow them; which he totally accepted. He followed them behind a block, shielding his face with a gray hat. They were oblivious to his sneaking about, as he planned.

What was he doing? Even he had not the faintest. He just followed what his heart wanted to do, and that was stalk his best friend and the man she was trying to get away from but was apparently giving a second chance. Yes, what in the world was wrong with that?

A crowd formed before him, and he began to sprint as he realized the two might be getting away. He pushed through the throng of British bystanders, ignoring their scoffs of irritation towards the twenty-something. Like their opinions were significant for him.

Finally, he saw they had stopped at a bench in the park, having ordered a snack from a pushcart at the corner of the street by the park. It was a blissful day, and this was obvious, given the details of laughter on Mara's features while she spoke with the athlete. His heart felt broken seeing someone else make her laugh, and he couldn't do a thing about it.

He inched closer, then began to conceal himself in bushes, trees, whatever he could fit himself into. A kid beside a tree gave him the oddest look as he took a bite of his ice cream.

"What, haven't you hid in bushes to look at girls?"

The boy was unresponsive and, for all Jerome knew, about eight.

"When you get older, you'll understand," Jerome grumbled as he went to another hiding place, away from the little twerp.

He was able to stand behind another thick tree, and his ears reached over to the two sitting casually with gleeful smiles and snacks in their grasps. Oh, how he wanted to hurl at the sight, both by its cliché-ness and how he was not the one beside the lovely woman.

"… glad you're feeling better, Mara. I'd hate to make you feel lousy," Mick was saying.

Mara became shy, and pulled a strand of black hair behind her ear. "Thank you, Mick. I feel—I feel a lot better, thanks to you."

"Yeah, we just needed some time away after… uh, all of that," Mick added sheepishly, his ears turning a light shade of red, causing Mara to giggle.

"Exactly," Mara agreed, nodding to prove so. After a few moments of enjoying their treats, Mara cleared her throat, responding with Mick glancing her way. "I know you want me to go back, but I-I'm still thinking. I hope that's alright."

Mick grinned brilliantly. "Of course, Mara. Take all the time you need. I was able to get an apartment—not that great, but better than nothing. Maybe-maybe you and I can live there for now. See what it's like to give together."

Mara let out a tiny laugh. "Oh, I don't know, Mick. I feel so great here, you know? It's been a while since I've been here, and—"

She was cut off by Mick taking her hands into his and rising them in front of him, a sign of a sort of plead. "Please come home with me. Start over, even just go slow. Then we'll get married. I'll do anything to have you back, Mara Jaffray—and I want you to be a Campbell."

He did not watch for his reaction, did not wait for her response. He bowed his head and tried to shut it away. Failing, he left hardly a second later.


End file.
